Out on a Limb
by Purtail
Summary: When faced with a different bite victim in the herd, Clementine makes a split-second decision that ultimately changes so much down the line.
1. Chapter 1

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Don't hate me 'cause Electric Sheep or Sharp and Sheer haven't been updated. D: I've been busy with personal issues, and spat this thing out in a night. It might be continued, if I get the time and inspiration. Anyway - please try to review if you can! Reviews keep me going!

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**Out on a Limb**

Closing her bright brown eyes briefly, the girl tried to focus on spreading the walker's insides over herself and Sarah, making sure to cover every last bit of live human beings with the stench of death. The teen was trembling as Clementine smoothed the blood over her, complaining in a hushed voice at how disgusting the act was. This whole situation just brought back painful memories of Lee, anyway; Sarah acting exactly like Clementine did when they escaped the Stranger's house was not helping anything. It took everything she had to swallow the lump building in her throat; she needed to be _strong_. For him.

"Shh, you need to be quiet, Sarah," she murmured, wiping her hands on her pants once she was finished. "I promise, this will keep you safe." This ritual had worked before - like a charm, even - and this was a promise Clementine intended to keep. Sarah was her friend, and no one else in their group was getting left behind.

Carlos was nearby, repeating the same words to his daughter as reassuringly as he could. Clementine gave a nod to him, entrusting him to know what to do to keep Sarah safe as they prepared to walk through the hoard.

"We ain't got all day here. Everybody ready?" Kenny asked, checking the group for anyone who was still smearing guts over themselves. Thankfully, it looked like they all had done their job; they looked like a group of dirty hobos, but they would survive. Clementine's gaze flashed into Kenny's, and she nodded to him, as well. He returned the notion and added, "They're almost on us."

And before anyone could respond further, a new voice sounded from behind them. "What the actual fuck is going on here?!" Clementine stiffened at Troy's loud hiss. She still felt the wound on her cheek from when he had smacked her for attempting to defend Kenny. As far as she was concerned, Troy was a horrible man, and he would ruin everything if he got too loud in this situation.

He babbled on more, demanding what their 'sick shit' was, his rifle pointed to the group. Luke reached for his own weapon, but Troy caught him in the act and threatened to shoot him if he moved. Clementine bit her lip, gaze trailing over her friends. It was do or die.

[Yell to Kenny]

**[Distract Troy]**

[Run]

[...]

"No! Stop!" Without thinking, the child rushed at Troy, attempting to redirect the rifle. Once her hands clamped around the weapon and pointed it towards the sky, a shot rang out, the heat radiating from it burning her ear.

"What the fuck is your problem, you little-!?" he squawked in surprise, cut off as Clementine let go. She backed up and watched as the color drained from his face. Her eyes followed his to the walker hoard, her own heart sinking in her chest.

_Shit…_

"Clem! You okay?" Luke cried, sending a swift punch to Troy's mouth. Dazed, the man staggered, only to charge forward into the walkers with his gun firing freely a minute later. The girl watched him disappear into the mess of walking rotten flesh, wondering how long he could survive without reeking of death. She nodded to Luke, turning back to see the rest of the group beginning to slowly walk into the hoard.

"We need to go," she whispered, receiving a nod in response. It became evident that the lurker hoard had become agitated by Troy's shot, and that if they didn't move now, they wouldn't make it. Nick joined his friend moments later, and Clementine found Sarah, trying to murmur words of encouragement to her naive companion.

Jane, their mysterious new ally, was softly giving instructions to the group. "Don't make any noise," she advised, tracking her eyes about the crowd, "And for fuck's sake, _walk_. Act like you belong and you will belong."

Clementine remembered Lee mentioning something like that - by acting like a walker and smelling like one, the things couldn't tell the difference. It wasn't a perfect method of safety, but it was all they had. She couldn't possibly trust Jane fully yet, but from her own experience, this seemed to be a great way to escape, and their only option to boot.

Tavia and the others were shooting from the rooftop, yelling out demands for more ammo and asking where Carver was. Clementine fought back the urge to cover her head; she didn't want to risk being spotted by the walkers, but being shot by Carver's followers wasn't a pleasant thought, either. She tried not to think about it, and focused on where she was going, and how much further there was to walk. The others' quiet words of encouragement did help some, as well.

She kept as quiet as she could, taking cautious but full steps and keeping an eye on Sarah in front of her. Carlos was leading the girls, his facial expression spelling out more worry and fear than ever before. However, it was understandable - Sarah was not doing well. She was shaking again, and her breath was quickening, preluding to the panic she felt when things went to shit. Her father encouraged Clementine to say something, and just as she was constructing whatever words she could to make Sarah's anxiety calm down even a little, a bullet went through Carlos's neck.

He fell instantly, getting gnawed on by walkers in the process. Clementine watched, suddenly reminded of those she'd lost to walker bites in the past - Shawn, Doug, Duck, Pete, and Lee,_ oh God Lee…_!

_No! This isn't the time!_

She wrenched those thoughts out of her head; what was she thinking?! This was _not_ the time to dwell on the past, and Sarah needed her help _now_. The girl was screaming her heart out, alerting walkers to her status as their prey. Her nails dug into the sides of her head as her despair poured out all at once, and Clementine feared she would sink to her knees at any moment.

The monsters around them were closing in, being picked off by Bonnie and Sarita as best they could manage.

"Run, Sarah!" Clementine cried without thinking, watching the teen sprint off into the hoard blindly. She attempted to follow, but walkers blocked her path. Raising the cleaver, Clementine drove the blade into one's head with a strong strike and managed to snake out of one's grasp before it could claw at her. Her weapon drove into two more monsters' skulls before hearing a low scream nearby.

As she ran towards the noise, time seemed to come to a halt. Clementine's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the man struggling with a lone walker, his gun clicking uselessly as he attempted to fire bullets that were not there. The creature's teeth were sunken deep into his wrist as he tried to wrench himself from its grasp. The girl slowed down as she raised her weapon, unsure what to do and knowing she didn't have much time to think it through.

This was _Troy_ \- this was the man who stood by and watched Kenny get beaten, who would have smacked Sarah and smacked Clementine herself without mercy. He treated the group like shit, asserting his authority as Carver's right-hand man by parading himself around the prison like a slavedriver.

Clementine was fully aware of how horrible he was, and she almost set the cleaver down and turned around to go find Sarah, to aid someone who actually _deserved_ her help. But she saw Troy's fearful gaze, noticed the way his eyes pleaded with hers silently as he tried to escape and knew he was as good as dead. Something about that look bothered her, but she couldn't place her finger on why. Just for a split second, she wondered what Lee would have done in this situation - would he have saved an enemy, or at least spared him from being eaten alive?

He'd taken mercy on those men back on the dairy farm, hadn't he? He'd known she was watching, knew it was a tough decision to make but did it ultimately for her sake. It wasn't something she understood then, but in this moment in time, it connected with her all-too-quickly. She had to do this, if only to not become a monster like Troy, or Carver.

Carver claimed she was just like him, that she had the same look in her eyes. Well, she'd prove him wrong right here and now - her eyes would not see the death of this man - her enemy - so long as she could help it.

Her weapon raised above her head, she made the decision that would prove her actions different than William Carver's.

**[Hack Off Troy's Arm]**

[Cleave Walker's Skull]

The blade sliced into Troy's flesh sloppily with a squishing sound, and he stared over at the child, wide-eyed and in disbelief at the sudden pain surely coursing through his body. Clementine didn't say a word as she released her weapon, giving one last glance around her before plunging the cleaver through his arm, hacking the limb off and surrendering it to the walker.

Troy clutched his upper arm, his eyes bugging out at Clementine and back to his dismembered limb a few times before he let out a bloodcurdling scream. She didn't blame him; it looked… well, horrible (not that that was unexpected), a mess of blood, meat, and bone exposed to the world. Clementine winced at the wound, noticing chunks of his flesh dripping from it before she had to tear her gaze away, to meet Troy's eyes.

Again, not unexpectedly, he was absolutely horrified, expression showing a form of raw terror and agony that Clementine had seen before - more times than she should have. For a moment, after seeing his eyes blink quickly and his body wobble a little, she feared he would faint right there on the spot. If that were the case, then chopping his arm off would have been pointless, for he'd be as good as dead. She still held up her arms, as if she could somehow catch him and drag him to safety. That delusion, thankfully, wasn't put to the test, as he seemed to gain at least some sense and gave her a shaky nod.

A walker approached the two of them; Clementine raised her weapon and sliced it into its skull, watching it fall to the ground. As quickly as she could manage, she cut a small crevice out of the corpse, retracting some of its guts to smear around Troy's torso. She felt oddly in charge of him now; grabbing his remaining arm, she hissed a low, "Get behind me," and kept her steady pace through the hoard. She had only managed to hit a few before they overwhelmed the two of them; before all hope was lost, however, bullets flew into the skulls of the approaching walkers. Whether those were from the rifles of friends or foes, Clementine didn't know, nor did she particularly care.

"C'mon!" she yelled to Troy, watching him stumble silently behind her. It wasn't much further, and finally, towards the outer edge of the mass, Clementine spotted Sarah. The girl was curled up on the ground, Bonnie nearby shooting any beasts that got too close. Clementine yelled out their names, knowing not keeping quiet wasn't going to hinder the situation further.

The redhead turned to see Clementine approaching, shooting two more lurkers that were behind them. "Troy? Y-you made it through...?" she asked, almost bewildered at the survival of her 'co-worker'.

Before the injured man could respond, Kenny's strong voice rang out above the walkers' hungry growls. He shot a few monsters before backing up into Bonnie, turning around and nearly blowing her head off in the process.

"Whoa, whoa! Chill the fuck out, Kenny!" Nick hissed, appearing with Luke and Rebecca mere seconds later. Mike and Jane trailed behind, both with cold expressions on their faces once they spotted Troy.

"Sorry, sorry - still havin' trouble shooting with one eye," the older man replied, shaking his head and lowering his weapon. The lot of them were just outside the hoard, which seemed to be focusing on Tavia's group atop the rooftop (and the blaring announcements regarding Howe's Hardware's newest sale on barbeque equipment).

"It's fine, I'm not hurt," Bonnie insisted, turning her gaze to Troy. "But… he is."

Kenny's eyes widened once he noticed the man, his lips curling into a snarl as he sauntered forward and grabbed Troy's collar, yanking him closer. "You - you son-of-a-bitch! How fuckin' _dare_ you show your face around here-"

Troy's eyes widened as he tried to squirm out of Kenny's grasp, blabbering out, "W-whoa, h-hey, man, I- I don't want-"

Sarita placed a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder before he could do anything drastic. "Kenny, please calm down. The man is missing an arm!"

"I don't care if he's got one, two, or ten arms, Sarita! If he's a danger to the group, he's gotta go!"

Clementine stepped forward, her voice as clear and confident as she could manage - and as mature as she could seem for an eleven-year-old. "I cut off his arm," she declared, eyes narrowing at Troy. Her light brown gaze shot to Kenny, giving him the same fierce look. "He was bitten. I did it so he could survive." There had been no choice - she was taught it was all about survival, after all (with a side dish of compassion).

Without warning, Troy started to babble on further: "Y-yeah, yeah, that's- that's right, she did. Fuck, man, I- I don't know wh- why that happened but it fucking _did_ and - and shit man fucking _shit…_I..." His words, of course, didn't make much sense, and it was obvious he'd lost a lot of blood already. Before anyone could respond to that mess of slurred words, Troy's legs gave out, making him collapse to the ground like dead weight.

Clementine didn't jump, but her gaze softened a bit as Sarita bent down to check the man's pulse. "He's lost a lot of blood, but he's only passed out for now. Can we get to a safe place?" she asked.

Everyone looked at one another, and Rebecca was the first to notice that someone was missing. "Wait a minute… Where's Carlos?" she asked, not realizing Sarah was nearby, a shaking and sobbing mess. It only took a glance at the broken girl to understand immediately what had happened.

Clementine bit her lip, approaching her friend cautiously. "Sarah…?" she murmured, bending down to the other girl's level on the ground. "Sarah, we need to move," she insisted, holding out onto her hands. "Come on."

Sarah seemed to drain of life, her eyes empty and her mouth hung open still in the aftermath of shock. She merely nodded weakly, bloodshot eyes avoiding Clementine's gaze and standing up, fixing her sights on the ground again.

"Oh, sweetheart…" Rebecca whispered sympathetically, but no one moved.

"Alright," Kenny began, pointing with his gun towards a building dead ahead of them. "That's our next stop 'til we can find that civil war museum." Leaving no room for arguments, he added, "C'mon, y'all. Nick, grab the asshole." The man nodded towards Troy, unconscious and bleeding out onto the ground.

"I thought _I_ was the asshole," Nick quipped sarcastically, quirking a brow at Kenny.

"Well, looks like your position's been taken."

Nick merely rolled his eyes and bent down to lift Troy, receiving a groan of pain from the injured man in response. "Shit, sorry…" he murmured apologetically.

"Here," Luke chimed in, taking some of Troy's weight to make him as comfortable as possible as he was supported between the two of them. Luke flashed a smile at Clementine before beginning to walk forward with Nick.

The girl smiled back, pleased with how her group was handling her decision. It really made her feel mature; she had decided to save a life, to not be like Carver and let someone weak die. Of course, there was still the problem of whether she'd severed Troy's arm quick enough, but given Reggie's experience, it didn't seem like it would be a big threat. After all, the amputation was nearly instantly after the bite.

From what Clementine could tell from her position, Kenny's pointed destination seemed like more pieces of a strip mall, broken into several stores like Carver's camp had been. "Let's move," the one-eyed man said, leading everyone towards the building. "Our first stop will be the strip's pharmacy."

Oh, the irony. But Clementine didn't think about the last time she had been in a pharmacy as she went along with her friends (and that one man whom she saved - he _wasn't_ her friend); instead, she focused on holding onto Sarah's hand, giving comforting squeezes every-so-often. There was only so much she could do, though; loss was inevitable in a world like this, even when you give your all to fight and save as many lives as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Whoa-ho, hey! This got another chapter! That surprised me, haha. This fanfic is less of a 'Troy whump' thing now and it's more or less me wanting to flesh out Clementine's thoughts and feelings regarding compassion and things like that. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing my favorite characters in pain, but it's become more than that now, I think.

Let's hope for another chapter, eh? Please review if you can.

Oh! Also, one more thing: I've tried to make this chapter (and possibly those in the future) have the same feel the video game had. Namely, walking around, finding things, talking to people, different dialogue, etc. Just because I wanted it to feel like it could fit in the game. Anyway, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

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Clementine let out a sigh, examining the group of survivors around her that were all moving about their own paces. They were all crowded in the pharmacy of the strip mall, the broken front glass boarded up to protect from the walkers hungrily walking outside. It didn't have many supplies left (apart from greeting cards, and there was no need for those anymore, was there?), but luckily it had _something_, which was better than nothing at all, in retrospect.

Once they had reached the place, everyone seemed to break off into teams: Nick and Luke, after setting Troy gently down on a table, joined Mike in sealing the front of the place to keep the rest of the group safe; Sarah curled up behind a counter, sobbing softly to herself; Rebecca sat down with Kenny; Jane cleared the area of any stray walkers and made sure others weren't hiding in any crevices; and Sarita was currently measuring the damage done on Troy. Clementine wasn't sure whom she wanted to join, but right now, she figured the injured man was her responsibility.

Cautiously, she walked up to Sarita, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Do you… need any help?" she asked, her eyes looking down to the unconscious form on the table. Troy looked terrible; he was a few shades paler, sweat trickling down his face, and the blood around his sleeve where his limb had been detached didn't seem to be clotting any time soon. The girl grimaced at the sight, wondering what he'd have to say when he woke up.

_If_ he woke up.

Sarita turned around and noticed Clementine, giving as warm a smile as she could manage. "Thank you, Clementine. Do you mind looking for any medical supplies? I don't know how much is left in a place like this, but… well, anything would help. I'm going to make a tourniquet, too… If you could find a belt or something similar, we can slow down the bleeding."

Clementine nodded. "Alright. Do you think he'll… make it…?" she was hesitant to ask, knowing that sometimes people did not make it in these sorts of situations, but she couldn't help but be curious. Curious, that is, if her split-second decision had been for nothing or not.

With a shake of her head, the woman responded, "I'm not sure yet. I'm going to do all I can. Oh, and can you check on Kenny for me, please?"

"Of course." Anytime was a good time to talk with Kenny, after all; Clementine smiled and turned around to find the one-eyed man. She hadn't gotten to talk to him much about what had happened with Carver, and now would be as good a time as any to discuss things, she supposed.

Unfortunately, she realized, that would have to wait; she had to take care of Troy first, and get what Sarita had asked for. She gave a nod to Kenny, as if to say, 'We'll talk later,' and once the man gave a warm smile in return, she glanced over the layout of the pharmacy.

It was divided by aisles with varying themes of products in each one, just like any other pharmacy. There were also the counters, which had items below (mostly rotting candy, though). In the back was the actual pharmaceutical section, where prescription drugs used to be sold. Clementine remembered going there when she was very little - around six, she'd guess. She had gone with her mother when her father had gotten a sinus infection and required an antibiotic. Her mother had gotten her McDonald's on the way back home, which contained a Happy Meal toy that was some doll from the most popular girly franchise at the time.

Those memories seemed so crisp in her mind, but failed to actually pop up unless prompted by the image of something she'd touched or somewhere she'd been in the past. Like how the garage-like door at Carver's camp yard reminded her of the jewelry store that Lee had died in. It was all so strange how memories from before the apocalypse were strung so closely to the ones from after in her mind. Maybe it was because she was young, but Clementine remembered the day Duck died as clearly as she did her fifth birthday party. The meat locker incident with Larry was as vivid and fresh a memory as her first day of school.

She didn't even know why she dwelled on the past so much; Lee had told her to keep moving, that she was strong and was smarter than any walker. She was, of course, but it didn't make her any less scared of what was happening, and her heart longed for days where she felt safe - safe with Lee.

Shaking her head, she had to remind herself that that was no longer her life. She could never go back to the Motor Inn, or revive those that she had lost. It just didn't work like that - it never did and it never will. _This_ was her life for now. Surviving together with these people, and fighting the undead that walked the streets.

She'd just have to get used to this.

"Hey, Clem? You in there?" A familiar, Southern-accented voice sounded from beside her.

_Shit! _How long had she been staring off into space, thinking about stuff that didn't matter now? She blinked a few times and looked up to see Luke's friendly face smiling down at her. Clementine willed herself to smile back, but it was weaker than she'd have liked. So much had happened in the past few hours, and it was still difficult to be strong, even now.

"Yeah, sorry," she apologized, giving him a nod. "I just… spaced out, I guess."

"Hey, no problem, Clem. How're you holdin' up, anyway? Are y'alright? Do you… need anything?" Luke bent down to meet her gaze, a brow quirked in question to her. She regarded him as an older brother-like figure, much like Ben had once been (though Luke was more capable, admittedly).

"I'm okay," she replied, her smile warming up to be more genuine and less forced. He seemed to notice, for his own eyes became gentler.

Standing back up, he continued, "Well, good. That's what I like to hear. If you need anything, though, don't hesitate to ask, okay?"

Clementine nodded again. "Sarita asked me to find some medical supplies for Troy. Want to help me?" she asked, her gaze drifting to the front of the store. The shards of glass from the window had been removed, and a thick layer of wood had been boarded in its place. "It looks like you're done with that," she added quickly.

Not surprisingly, Luke nodded. "Sure, we can check in the back, where Jane's patrolling. Let's head on back, then." Clementine figured he'd be willing to help, even despite his bad blood with Troy. He was just that kind of guy - like Lee had been.

The two of them made their way to the back of the stores, stepping over the debris that had crumbled down from the ceiling and aisles. Jane, one of the newest additions to their group, was bent down in the back of the store, tearing through a few boxes and stuffing things into her pockets.

"What're you doing?" Luke asked, prompting her to turn around as though she were caught in some act. But once she noticed Luke, her frown curled into a challenging smirk, clearly showing she didn't see him as a threat.

"What do you think? I'm looking for stuff," she replied curtly, rolling her eyes.

"What, uh, kind of _stuff_?" Luke asked, crossing his arms.

Jane stood back up, snapping, "Whatever I can find, genius. Why? You looking for something in particular?"

Clementine nodded. "Sarita asked for medical supplies for Troy - anything you can find would probably be helpful."

The woman scoffed, cocking her head to the side a bit. "_Troy_, huh? Still dunno why you saved him in the first place, kid. When I saw him standing there with his stumpy arm, I had half a mind to shoot the guy's dick off. He's a regular piece of shit, nothing redeemable in him."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "Well, that may be, but I trust Clem's decision. I'm glad you helped us get out of Carver's camp, but I'd appreciate it if you respected Clementine, as well."

It seemed, to Clementine, that more and more adults were treating her like one of them and not some little kid. There was a world of difference between herself and Sarah, that much was obvious, and it made her more than a little pleased to be respected as mature. Though she wasn't quite where she wanted to be in terms of her place in the group, she couldn't help but be proud of her accomplishments. She was still young, and she knew that having adults trust her to be sensible said a lot about her.

Once more, she thought about how much she owed Lee for teaching her to be strong and mature.

Jane broke her out of her thoughts with her sharp reply, "I do trust the kid. She's smarter than the other girl you got with you - and most of your idiot crew. The rest of you had better find some sense of survival, and fast, or you won't make it another day." Her brown eyes brightened as she looked down at Clementine in slight admiration and determination.

Giving a smirk of her own, the child responded, "Thanks, I guess, but we all pull our weight." She hoped, anyway. Truthfully, she was grateful that they were letting her do what she thought was best, and not ordering her around like a baby. On the subject of Troy, she added, "What happened was a split decision, but I decided to spare him all the same. It's just what good people do."

"'Good people'. Right. But hey, don't come crying to me when he wakes up and starts treating you all like shit," Jane hissed in reply, shaking her head.

"I don't doubt it. What was he like, after you arrived? We were long gone by then." Luke asked curiously.

Jane shrugged. "What's there to say? He was on the inside, I was on the outside. We talked a few times, made some deals for supplies and shit. I think he definitely wanted to get somewhere with me, though. Which he would not have done under any circumstances." She seemed to forget that Clementine was there, but once she remembered she was in the presence of a kid, she didn't seem to care, either. "Getting caught with my pants down in an apocalypse? What, did he think I was an _idiot_?"

Luke cleared his throat, giving a side glance to Clementine next to him, and replied, "Regardless… even if he is a piece of shit, it was Clem's idea to save 'im, so I'm gonna respect that. I'd like you to, as well."

She chuckled. "Whatever. I'm gonna get back to scrounging around this place, then."

"Alright then." Luke turned back to the girl, giving her another nod and directing his gaze to the aisles in the back of the store. "There should be some supplies back there, Clem. Let's go."

Clementine nodded, proceeding to search through some of the bags and containers in the pharmacy. She tried not to think about the last time she was in a place like this, tried not to remember how Lee and Lilly had rushed as fast as they could to get the ni...tro… things for Larry, and kept her sights on searching through the items, looking for something that could help their injured enemy (or whatever he was now).

Lee and Kenny hadn't liked Larry, she remembered. But they still did a whole lot to get him those pills. She could do the same here with Troy, despite how much the lengths she was going to for a man who had struck her with his gun annoyed her.

With a sigh, she realized that Carlos should be doing this, not her. He should be alive, he should be with Sarah and getting medicine and… not where he was. He shouldn't be _dead_. Clementine didn't have time to mourn him (did she ever have time?), and just thinking about how alone her friend was now was a deep cut. After she made sure Kenny was doing okay with his eye, she made a mental note to check up on Sarah, too.

That didn't fix how lost she was in this scenario with medicine, though. She supposed bandages and a tourniquet would have to do for now. Troy could do without painkillers for now - their main priority was stopping the bleeding.

"Hey, Clem! I found some bandages," Luke called out, just as she noticed a long length of rope hanging on the back wall.

"Good. That'll make a good tourniquet." She pointed to the rope and stood on the tips of her toes, but the rope was still just out of her grasp. Luckily, Luke placed his hands on her sides and lifted her without hesitation. She squirmed a little, shooting him a glare for picking her up without asking first, but ultimately grabbed the rope without a word and crossed her arms. "I could've done that myself."

He merely smiled and handed her the bandages. "Sure. But hey, if need anything else, Clem, and I'll be glad to help. Just gimme a holler." With that, he walked off to Nick, probably going to look for something else he could do while they rested here.

Clementine watched him go and made her way back to Sarita, exchanging a glance with Kenny beforehand. The man was leaning on a counter with his arms crossed, most likely on edge because the group was at a standstill for the moment. Until they figured out the condition of their charge, they couldn't do much, after all.

"Sarita, I brought some bandages, and a rope… Do you think that'll work for a tourniquet?"

The woman turned her head and took the things off Clementine. "Yes, I think this will work just fine. But Clementine, could you help me, please? I'll just need you for a few minutes."

Without hesitation, the girl shrugged. "Sure. What do you need me to do?"

"Can you hold him in place as I set the tourniquet?" Sarita pointed to the bloody edge of Troy's severed limb, or rather the stump that the cleaver slice had left behind. It wasn't the first time Clementine had seen someone's arm cut off, and it wouldn't be the last, she'd bet. This cut wasn't as clean, though, as she'd been in a hurry doing it. It was probably very painful, given that Troy hadn't awakened yet, and indicated by the blood pooling around his limp figure still.

Without responding, Clementine held the man's torso still, noting the way he twitched in his unconscious state, probably indicating how much pain he was in. When Sarita wound the rope around his arm's stump, he only got worse; his teeth ground together and his head moved from side to side, fighting the urge to yell out in pain. His whole body was squirming, and had he been conscious, she was sure he would easily overpower him. Good thing he wasn't, though, because he probably would have been in even more agony. Clementine may not like him, but she wouldn't wish that sort of pain on anyone.

"Almost - almost…" Sarita murmured, and Clementine took a peek at what exactly she was doing. It didn't look… fun, to be honest, and she was glad that her job was only to hold Troy down. Sarita was tying the rope against what was left of his arm, the blood seeping through her fingers and staining her jacket. She kept at it, however, and made sure to knot it in multiple places so it would stay. It sure seemed sturdier than Lee's had been, that's for sure.

Kenny's voice sounded next, behind her. "Sarita, hon, are you doin' okay over there? Why waste so much time on the asshole?" The reason why both of them were working hard to save Troy was above the man's head, Clementine was sure. It didn't make much sense to her, either, but she wasn't as vocal as Kenny was.

"Kenny, please - I'm fine. And you know I can't turn my back on someone who needs help. Have you forgotten when I'd found you?" Sarita asked in response, pausing to look over to him expectantly.

Clementine always wondered how Kenny survived; Christa had told her that he was lost in an alleyway, saving his last bullet for Ben's skewered body. To be honest, Clementine was glad she hadn't been there to see the teen's death and Kenny's supposed demise, though it never would have happened in the first place if she hadn't been careless. To this day, she still blamed herself for a lot of it: Lee's bite, Ben's death, Kenny's disappearance… So many events could have been prevented had she just stayed put.

At least Kenny survived, though it was her fault he'd lost his eye, too. Clementine sighed and noticed Sarita had finally stopped making knots in the rope, and lifted her hands away from Troy. "He's stable for now, I think," she declared. They both knew she wasn't a doctor, but a kind, compassionate woman's helpfulness was all the ground had now, with their doctor dead. "Thank you, Clementine."

The girl nodded in response and let go of Troy, noting how he didn't put up a fight.

After raising a quizzical eyebrow to him, she turned away, eager to speak with Kenny now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **I added a scene in the first chapter so something will make sense in this one. Sorry about also forgetting about Bonnie; I don't do well with stories where I have to constantly wonder where each member of the group is. Let's just say Clem didn't see Bonnie in the second chapter.

Please review if you can! :D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

"So, darlin', I think we have some things to talk about," Kenny's voice still sounded rough and cracked from the pain of his eye injury, and he seemed very tired overall. Exhausted, even. Clementine's gaze softened; she wished he would rest a bit while they could, instead of using his time talking to her.

But still, she also knew there was no arguing with him. She nodded, and sat up on the counter next to where Kenny was leaning.

"What is it?" she asked, blinking at him. Where could he even _start_, really? There were so many unsaid things between the two of them - and while sometimes, it was good to keep feelings and words to a minimum, it was also nice to let them out.

The older man leaned back even further, placing his palms on the counter and looking down at the rough surface. "Y'remember the last time we were in a pharmacy?"

Great. Of all things, he had to start with _that_. Clementine sighed and nodded. "Yes, I remember… Lee got me an energy bar and we spent some time in his parents' office."

Kenny nodded, closing his eyes as if to envision himself in that place, in the Everetts' drugstore days after he'd met Lee and Clementine, with Katjaa and Duck by his side again, looking to him for guidance. Everyone they knew was still alive back then. Well, not _everyone_ \- Clementine's parents hadn't been, she found out later. But the Motor Inn group was alive and together as a group - as a _family_.

"That's right, he did… Got one for Duck, too. He always did look out for both of you kids, didn't he?"

Her heart sank as they went into more painful territory of their memories; remembering Lee's guidance was painful enough, but adding her friend in made it that much worse. Duck wasn't the brightest child, but at least he and Clementine had each other when the world around them was crumbling. Recalling the days she'd played with him just caused her chest to hurt; turning away, she mumbled, "I… don't really want to talk about this…"

Kenny must have realized he'd said something insensitive; his eye widened and he shook his head. "Oh, shit - sorry, Clem. I know it's still hard for you - hell, it's hard for me, too."

Clementine nodded. "It's never been easy," she agreed, her gaze lowering.

"So what made you hack that ass's arm off?"

She shrugged. "I just… did what Lee would do." She was confident that's what the man would have done, had he been here. If Lee were here, he wouldn't hesitate to help, even if the person was horrible to him. At least, that was what Clementine believed. She hoped her memory of Lee wasn't inaccurate, and that he really was as kind and compassionate as she remembered. "He didn't kill the St. John brothers," she added, closing her eyes as the memories swirled around her.

That farm was strongly remembered in her mind, as most of her senses recalled what it was like. The smell of fresh grass, the warm nostalgia associated with sitting at a table for dinner, the feel of a cow's coarse fur, and the spine-tingling fear of death… It seemed that the memories with senses other than sight were the strongest in her mind. For a moment, she was afraid she'd open her eyes and see Kenny, Lilly, and Lee arguing in the meat locker.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she nearly jumped. Once her eyes snapped open, however, the illusion was gone, and she was in the pharmacy again with Kenny.

"Clem? You in there?"

Shaking her head, the girl replied, "Y-yeah, sorry. I was just… remembering." Though she tried her hardest not to remember, things always made it past her mental barrier. She doubted those times would fade anytime soon, too.

"It's alright. I was saying that Lee raised you in a good way. I may not agree with everythin' you do, but… well, you're more than capable of deciding things yourself." It seemed to finally dawn on Kenny that she wasn't a little girl anymore - that this world had stolen her innocence and she had moved on without it.

"Thank you, Kenny," she replied with a small smile.

The man nodded, giving her a warm grin back, and then his expression fell. Before she could ask what was wrong, his gaze drifted over to Sarita, a dull look settling in his eyes. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'm just seein' Kat in her," he whispered.

Though Clementine knew she was more than capable to make decisions an eleven-year-old normally wouldn't be able to, she absolutely could not help in this department. If Lee were here, perhaps he could offer some insight for his friend, but Clementine was just another child when it came to adult affairs like this. She shook her head, turning away for a moment. "This isn't the time," she murmured, a bit sharply. Whether Kenny saw Katjaa in Sarita or not was none of her business.

Kenny blinked, the realization of who he was talking to seemingly dawning on him. "Fuck. You're right, this ain't the time, and you ain't the person I should be talkin' about this with. Sorry, darlin'." He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, to which she nodded in understanding.

While both of their sights were still on Sarita, Kenny commented, "I wonder if you'll get a thank you in the end for savin' his life."

The girl shrugged. Honestly, she hadn't been expecting one, nor did it really matter in a situation like this. "We're all survivors," she pointed out, "we have to look out for one another, don't we?" That was all she was doing, in the end.

"You sure as hell didn't mind me bashing in that fucker's face."

Well, Carver's case was a bit different. That man had held them prisoner, invoked fear in all of his 'family members,' oppressed everyone with his system, made Carlos physically harm Sarah, and to top it all off, he _beat_ Kenny and made him lose an eye. Clementine never thought any human could top a walker in terms of monstrous behavior, but William Carver proved her wrong in the end.

"That was different," she projected, narrowing her eyes. "_He_ deserved it."

Kenny smirked back at her, showing approval of her words. "I couldn't agree more, Clem."

"Thanks," she replied. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Besides the fact that we're in a drugstore again and it seems kinda quiet without Larry barkin' about at everyone? Nah." Kenny chuckled under his breath, gazing at the floor as he was surely overwhelmed by memories.

Clementine looked away, towards the other set of counters across the store, remembering she had to see Sarah. "I need to go check on my friend," she murmured, "Carlos was her dad… I think she's really broken up over everything."

Given that Kenny had fallen apart after his entire family died all at once, the man surely wasn't surprised. He nodded somberly. "Go do what you need to, Clem. We'll chat more later, if you like."

The girl gave him one last glance before walking across the store, to where Sarah was still curled up and sobbing. She peered over the edge of the counter, whispering her name. The other girl didn't seem to take notice, rocking back and forth as she hugged her knees, her glasses noticeably cracked on her face.

After hopping over the counter, Clementine bent down to her friend's level. "Sarah…? Sarah, it's me," she said, waving a hand in front of her face. "It's Clementine. We made it out of the walker hoard."

Sarah's lifeless eyes drifted to her friend, a very recognizable defeat shifting through her brown irises. Her mouth hung open as she pushed quiet, broken words off her tongue: "...not everyone made it out…"

Clementine's heart fell at the sight of her. Sarah had been so naive - in a way, she reminded her of how she herself used to be. It was human nature to want to protect someone so childlike, she supposed; something so precious as innocence in this nightmare world had to be cherished and guarded. Carlos had wanted to keep the horrors of society (or lack thereof) from his daughter until his gruesome end, but the truth was that no one stayed innocent now.

No one could keep something so treasured for themselves for too long. Eventually, the world would come and snatch it away.

"Sarah… I'm really sorry…" Clementine was horrible at this sort of thing, but she was trying her hardest. She sat down in front of Sarah on her knees, her eyes shimmering with sadness. This had been hard to hear from Lee after she'd seen her parents as walkers, and it would be hard for Sarah to hear, but it needed to be said.

She lowered her head to look the other girl in the eyes. "Sarah, you need to hear me," she hissed quietly, making sure that her friend was looking back at her. She could only see emptiness behind those cracked frames, but at least she was keeping eye contact. Clementine continued, "You're _strong_, Sarah. You're going to see bad things, but you'll make it. And I'll be here to help you."

Her hands reached for her friends, prying Sarah's cold fingers out of the fists she'd clenched in despair to lace her own around them tightly.

The girl hiccuped, seemingly coming back to life from her previous shell state, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Clementine, sobbing into her shoulder. "I-it… it- it hurts so much…! D-Dad… _Daddy_!" she wailed, her hands tightening around her friend's.

Clementine let her cry it out, knowing that this would be good for her in the end. Once the girl's cries finally seemed to subside, she lifted one of Sarah's hands and interlocked their pinkies. "You're _strong_. And we'll be friends forever, no matter what happens," she promised.

She knew she couldn't promise something as sugary sweet as 'I'll never leave you,' because she knew very well that anyone could die at any time. She also realized Sarah would never be the same now, and that she'd have to expose the other girl to the horrors of the world and teach her to protect herself. She'd have to be Sarah's 'Lee'.

Eventually, she shifted so she was sitting next to Sarah, their fingers still intertwined. Leaning her head on the older girl's shoulder, she realized how tired she felt all of a sudden. For now, she supposed she could close her eyes and rest, just like she had wished Kenny would do. Though it was important to be alert at all times, Clementine recognized that they were safe enough for now, and she trusted the rest of the group enough to alert her if anything was breaking in.

With a sleepy sigh, her eyes finally shut, listening to Sarah's breathing even out, indicating she'd fallen asleep, too. Clementine let herself be dragged under by sleep's darkness.

* * *

"What the f-fuckin' _hell_ is going on here? Why am I - what the fuck did you assholes do to me!?"

At the loud, rough voice, Clementine's eyes snapped open and she instantly sprung to her feet, one hand reaching for the cleaver she still had in her back pocket. Her gaze, still blurred from slumber, tracked around the room, noting the changes in the room since she'd fallen asleep.

Sarah was still next to her, eyes widened and alert. Clementine saw Rebecca now seated on a cushion of some sort towards the back of the store, Kenny and Mike nearly blocking her from view. Their faces were contorted with anger, directed towards the table where Troy was.

_Troy!_

Clementine's eyes whipped over to the table, noting their 'guest' was now seated up, a fierce glare on his face as he struggled to stand up. Luke, Nick, and Jane surrounded him, Sarita a ways off behind them. Tightening her grip on the cleaver, Clementine sprinted over to him, just in the event she'd have to use it.

However, once Troy noticed her with it, his eyes widened in surprise and he seemed to shrink back due to the instinctive fear associated with it. She couldn't blame him there - the same weapon had sliced his arm off.

But she didn't allow him any sympathy. Her eyes narrowed, she snapped, "How long were you awake?"

The man's mouth hung open for a few moments, his eyes darting about, before he stammered out, "I- I don't know! How the fuck did I get here? How long was I fuckin' out, you little _shitstain_!?"

Bonnie, whom Clementine had nearly forgotten about in their large group, sounded from behind her. "Troy, you should think about bein' nicer to Clementine. She saved your _life_, you know."

Troy's features softened for a moment before he glared her way. "What the fuck do you mean? Where'd my arm go? Why does everythin' fuckin' hurt? Why does everyone smell like shit? Why do _I_ smell like shit?" He looked around, finally noticing just how many of the group was around him; Clementine narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, giving him a sour look.

He gave her one right back. "The fuck are you looking at-"

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Clementine crossed her arms. "I cut your arm off. Did you forget?" Just for emphasis, she showed him the blade, still stained with his blood; he flinched as he saw it, eyes darting between it and her.

"Wh-why did you…" His teeth clenched and a low growl rumbled in his throat, as if he had trouble connecting the pieces to this puzzle.

"Because you were bitten." Her eyes narrowed further, into slits.

He scoffed, curling his lips to a smirk and wrenching himself off the table, wobbling a bit on his feet. It seemed he wasn't used to being one-armed just yet (obviously), and had to take a few minutes before straightening his spine, as if he could get back that air of authority he had in Carver's camp.

"Alright, y'all. Back to _fucking_ work. Do I need to get Bill here to order you assholes around?" he sneered, turning to Clementine when she didn't move. "Did I fucking stutter?" It almost seemed like he was desperate to be in charge again, asserting himself as someone above them when he clearly was not any longer.

Luke crossed his arms. "Troy, uh… Bill's dead." At the silent, shocked look the other man was giving him, he continued, "And we're not in the prison anymore. We managed to escape by coverin' ourselves in walker guts. _That's_ what we all smell like."

Nick nodded. "You're a lucky son-of-a-bitch, too. Clem hacked off your arm after you got bit," he reiterated Clementine's earlier words, looking away uncomfortably.

Troy looked flabbergasted. His mouth hung open, eyes looking about, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to speak. "I- wh-what… I don't get-" He shook his head, looking to Bonnie. "Why aren't you orderin' them around?"

Bonnie sighed. "Because I helped them _escape_, Troy. I couldn't take what Bill was doin' to them any longer. And now you owe these people your life, so I'd recommend startin' fresh here. S'the least you can do, considerin'."

The man scoffed, nearly falling over in the process of walking up to her. "I don't gotta do _shit_, Bonnie-"

"Actually, you do," Jane replied, taking a step towards him with a wickedly smug smile. "You don't get to make the rules anymore, Troy." She seemed overjoyed at this fact, and the look in her eyes seemed… dangerous.

"She's right," Luke added, "Now, you can comply and be our ally, but if not, we'll consider you a prisoner. It's as simple as that, Troy." While it was clear Luke didn't enjoy Troy's company here, he was at least willing to work beside him if he cleaned up some of his act.

Clementine felt the same, really. She didn't like Troy, and didn't think she would anytime soon, but she'd make sure he didn't put any of her friends in danger. Of course, he was still getting used to his one arm, so it would take a bit for him to get his bearings. He wouldn't have that big rifle he showed off back at Carver's, and would have to rely on blades or smaller guns now.

She shot a frown Troy's way. "It's your choice, in the end."

The man considered his options, his face tightening with tension for a few moments. He looked around at the others, those he'd pushed around and yelled at during his reign under William Carver. But those days were over now, and he was stuck with them for now. Clementine had to imagine that it felt scary, being in a new place with people who hated you - but he brought it upon himself, so she didn't feel much sympathy for him.

In the end, his facial expression clarified that he was very unhappy, but still he nodded. "Fine. I'll stick with you assholes until I can go my own way."

She wondered when that would be, exactly. Hopefully soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Sooooo who else is mad about Episode 4? I won't spoil anything but the characters that were given the short end of the stick will probably get more than their fair share of glory in this fic. As much as I can, anyway.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

After most of the group had had a sufficient rest, it became apparent that they could not stay at the pharmacy. Kenny was the first to speak up after Troy had awoken and spat out insults. The older man was straight to business, as always; approaching the main portion of their group after everyone had grown quiet from the tension with their new 'guest'.

"Alright, we shouldn't let this new _baggage_," he shot a glare Troy's way, "stop us from our plan to find someplace safe. With Carver out of the way, the threat's gone too, isn't it? I think we should stick together and make our way towards the civil war museum up the road." He scanned the group, eyes settling on each member meaningfully. When his gaze reached Clementine, he nodded to her. "Clem, I'll trust you to make sure Troy doesn't fall behind."

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted (almost expectantly).

"_Excuse me_?" Troy snapped, his face twisting in anger. He stumbled forward, gaze glaring into Kenny's. "I'm not a fuckin' _baby_, you know. I don't want you to put me in the care of this little shit-"

Kenny crossed his arms, narrowing his good eye. "Well that's funny, because frankly I don't give two _shits_ what you want me to do. And like it or not, the fact is that you're… less capable… than you once were. S'just a fact, right?" He raised an eyebrow, giving a sheepish smile.

Jane chuckled lowly, her words like honey. "Don't worry, Troy. It's not like you made fun of Reggie every time you saw him, right? It's a good thing you didn't call him a cripple or broken. Because I mean, that would be just so damn ironic, now, wouldn't it? Oh… wait…" Her smile was even more sickenly sweet; Clementine wondered just who she was, and what her story had been so far. She couldn't help but smile at the snip towards Troy. It was almost refreshing to see someone rattle him up, in a way.

He, of course, didn't take too kindly to that; narrowing his eyes, he snapped, "You got a big fuckin' mouth, _bitch_."

"Anyway," Kenny interrupted, moving in between the two, "the reality is that you're still a weak spot in the group. Your arm's drippin' blood and you're not used to fighting with your left arm, I'll bet. So the plan remains the same. We're goin' as a group." He smirked and gave stern looks to both Jane and Troy, leaving no room for argument.

Clementine recalled how many instances Kenny tried to become in charge back when Lee was alive; at the Motor Inn, he had bashed heads with Lilly more times than necessary. She was sort of used to it at this point, and their group needed to look to someone confident enough to lead, especially now that Carlos was gone.

The girl looked over to Luke and Nick, who were standing next to her, and asked, "Are you guys okay with that?" When they both nodded, she asked the same question to Rebecca and Sarah, who nodded and looked away respectively.

Since the rest of her original group seemed to approve, she gave a firm nod herself to Kenny, declaring, "We're all fine with that… I think we should move, though."

"My thoughts exactly," Kenny replied. Sarita grabbed the medical supplies they'd found in the drugstore, as well as the small amount of food that had been in aisles towards the back, and placed them all inside a backpack. Luckily, this store still had things like that laying about, just ripe for the picking. Everyone took as much as they could, making sure they could still be able to fight, should a threat come by.

Without another word said, they headed out.

* * *

The rest of the strip mall didn't have as many supplies as the drugstore, unfortunately. In fact, its stock was significantly lower overall, prompting Clementine to believe that most of everything had been raided out a long time ago. She'd scrounged up a backpack of her own, as her old one was gone for good (as was the picture of Lee, unfortunately…).

After placing some of the bandages Sarita had collected, and some antiseptic spray, Clementine hauled her bag onto her back and stepped out with the rest of the group. Kenny, Sarita, Bonnie, Mike, and Jane led them; Rebecca was watched closely by Luke, and Nick, Troy, and Sarah were walking in the back near Clementine. The girl was keeping a close watch on her friend, as she knew Sarah was very unstable right now (not that she blamed her).

"Sarah…? Are you okay?" she whispered, light brown eyes flicking over to her friend. The taller girl, still wearing cracked frames for glasses, managed a trembling nod. Clementine reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly.

Sarah let out a shaky breath, her own hand's grip tightening around Clementine's, her eyes darting around for any slight sign of danger. "I-is there… any way we can stay together?" she asked, her words little more than a squeak as they left her lips.

"Stay close to me," Clementine answered, realizing that was as much of an answer as she could give the older girl. She couldn't promise anything - in fact, she was sure nothing was set in stone at _all_ in the world they lived in. Sarah had to learn that sometime, and hopefully would soon.

Before Sarah could answer, an irritating voice sounded from just behind them. "Hey! Kid! Did any of y'all think to give me a _fucking_ weapon?" For some reason, a grown man was running to the eleven-year-old for help (not that she hadn't seen that before) instead of the other grown man right next to him.

Clementine narrowed her eyes at Troy, muttering, "Why would we give _you_ a gun?"

"Why the hell not?" he shot back.

"_Because_, asshole," Nick interjected with a roll of his eyes, "we know _better_ than to trust you with a weapon right now. Especially since you've been known to treat us like pieces of shit."

Clementine nodded, flashing a smug smile towards the amputee. "Unless you prove you can be given a weapon and not run, we'll be holding onto them for now."

Troy's lips curled into a snarl, but he kept his mouth shut. Seemed he had a bit more sense than Clementine had thought. She kept her eyes trained ahead, scanning the path they travelled down for any sense of danger. Signs pointing in the direction of Parkour's Run, the civil war museum that seemed to be their best bet for safety. Clementine wondered what would be left of it, but ultimately, she didn't have high hopes. An advertised place like that was most likely picked clean early on.

"Hey!" Nick hissed behind her, prompting her to turn her head to see what was going on. He was shoving Troy, a fierce glare plastered on his face. Clementine noticed his grip tighten around the gun he held in his hands, and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What's the matter?" she asked, blinking.

"This asshole won't stop eyein' me up," Troy replied, cocking his head over to glare towards Nick. "Like he thinks I'll make a run fer it first chance I get."

"Well how the fuck do I know you're not?" Nick snapped in reply, raising his head to meet the other man's eyes.

Troy thrust his face inches away from Nick's, baring his teeth like an animal. "I'm. Fucking. _Maimed_! Y'think I'll get goddamn anywhere with one arm and no weapons!?" Huffing, he stomped his foot down and added, "Use some goddamn _sense_ for once!"

Nick scoffed. "I am! I don't trust you one fucking bit. I'm makin' sure you don't try to get at Clementine or Sarah or anyone."

The girl nodded. "Listen to Nick. I'll put him in charge of you if you don't watch it." She enjoyed the way his face scrunched up in anger; assigning someone to watch him didn't sound like such a bad idea, actually. Nick was capable enough, and seemed to respect Clementine's decision to spare Troy (no matter how much he may not approve of it).

Troy was probably so used to being one of the top dogs that he'd forgotten what it was like to be on the bottom. Clementine didn't feel a shred of pity for him, not with the wound he'd given her still fresh on her cheek. After narrowing her eyes in his direction, she turned back to Sarah.

"Are you… doing okay?" she whispered, reaching out to hold the girl's hand.

Surprisingly, Sarah accepted her gestured, and returned the grip tightly. "I… I'm not okay. I don't feel okay. Am I going to be okay, Clementine? I… I want my dad. Is he coming…?" She looked behind her, as if Carlos would somehow appear down the path, completely unharmed.

But the reality was all-too-real for Clementine; Carlos wasn't coming, and Sarah needed to know it, no matter how painful.

"Sarah, he's not coming," she began gently, giving her friend's hand a squeeze. "He's… he's gone." She didn't want to be too harsh, but the truth needed to be said. Sarah was naive, and would be quick to jump to any ounce of hope if Clementine didn't wake her up with reality.

The older girl's eyes widened, as if her father's fate had settled in once more, and tears sprung underneath her eyelids. "Wh…" Her voice shook as she tried to push words past her lips, the horror evident in her expression. Arms wrapping around herself, she lowered her gaze and slowed her pace, falling behind on the path.

Clementine's gaze followed her, straggling behind until she bumped into Troy, who flinched at the collision.

"What the fuck d'you think you're doin'!?" Troy yelled, using his good arm to push Sarah forward. "Pick up the pace, you little shit!" The moment he put his hand on her, Clementine moved, grabbing the stump left of his right arm and shoved him away from her friend, her lips drawn back in anger.

At the first hint of a touch, Troy flinched, and let out a yowl of pain when Clementine didn't let go. She tightened her grip around the wound, digging her nails into the light fabric of the bandages. Her fingers dripped blood, and Troy attempting to wriggle from her grasp - unsuccessfully, mind you, and yelling out garbled curses at her.

"Don't. Touch. Sarah. _**Ever**_!" she snarled, teeth gnashing together in fury. She didn't often lose her temper (merely showing displeasure from afar, silently), but if this ass thought he was going to pretend like he was still in charge…

Well, she'd have to teach him that he _wasn't_.

She could feel Nick's hands coming between her and Troy, drawing her arm away from what was left of his. "Easy! Easy, Clementine!" he exclaimed, eyes darting between the two of them.

Troy was panting, his head lowered and severed limb twitching in pain; sweat trickling down his forehead as he struggled to keep his pace with the rest of the group.

"Everythin' alright back there?" Kenny asked, not bothering to turn his head.

"It's fine!" Clementine yelled back, shooting a glare towards Troy.

"We got it under control, old man," Nick added, turning his head to their 'guest'. "A _misunderstandin'_. Right, Troy?"

The man swallowed hard and took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging and eyes closing for a few brief moments. "Y...yeah. Yeah, s'all it was." Maybe he finally realized he was at a disadvantage here; Clementine would like to have hoped that was what happened, but honestly, she just assumed he was in too much pain to focus. His track record with dealing with others, and the fact that he also muttered a quick, "You little shit…" more or less confirmed her theory.

But she had more important things to focus on. She watched Sarah trail further and further behind as they moved, biting her lip and trying to get her friend to catch up. She understood her grief, and her need for time to recover, but Clementine didn't want anything to happen to her friend, either. "Sarah, we need to keep moving," she urged, noticing with despair how Nick and Troy had passed them up already.

"Um, but… what if my dad…?" Sarah's voice was a broken whisper; she was trying so hard to be hopeful, but it seemed even she realized the truth. Clementine sighed and placed a hand on the girl's back, rubbing it as soothingly as she could.

"It's alright, Sarah," she murmured. "But we _need_ to go. You know that, don't you?" Sarah nodded, although hesitantly. Clementine sighed in relief. Good - she understood why they had to keep their pace; falling behind was dangerous, especially considering they'd just escaped a walker hoard.

Speaking of walkers, the moment Clementine thought back to the snarling infestation of death, she heard the familiar growling in the distance. Turning her head, she gazed down the long road they'd travelled, spotting the strip mall in the distance. In between them and the building was a small herd of walkers, swiping and biting at the air hungrily.

_Shit! _There wasn't much time before that herd caught up to them; they outnumbered their small group and the lack of weapons on every person was definitely a disadvantage. Clementine was fairly confident they could make it out alive with tactful thinking, but she needed to alert the others to come up with a plan.

[Yell to Kenny]

[Yell to Luke]

**[Yell to Nick] **

[...]

"Nick!" she screamed, prompting the man to turn his head and spot the huge threat not too far behind them. Eyes widening, he alerted Luke and the rest up at the front of the group.

"Aw, shit!" Mike cursed. "Any of y'all got any bright ideas on how to get outta that?"

"We'll need to split up," Jane replied, her tone as icy as ever.

"Sounds like a plan," Kenny agreed, raising his voice. "Luke, Sarita - keep moving with Rebecca. Go as fast as y'can; shoot forward if you need to, but _don't look back_. Clementine, take Sarah and Troy with you and follow them. Be the second wave - shoot behind if you need to, but only if you need to." His one-eyed gaze trailed over the remainder of the group. "Nick, Bonnie, and Mike - y'all ready to shoot some walkers with me?"

"Hell yeah," Nick replied with a slight smirk, obviously pleased that someone was putting their faith in him.

"Good," Kenny replied, reflecting his grin. "Everyone, just follow the signs and meet up at Parkour's Run. Good luck, and _stay safe_!"

At the words, Clementine wasted no time; grabbing Sarah's hand, she began to pull her friend forward, charging up behind Luke, Sarita, and Rebecca. She knew their position was more or less to guard Rebecca and her baby, and that was just fine with her; she'd make sure no walker even _touched_ her. Her weapon raised, she glanced around for any enemies in the trees on both sides of them, ready to strike.

Growls and hisses sounded from nearby, but she couldn't quite place where they were coming from. The threat was evident; it made her head spin to not know _where_ it was, though.

A loud yell answered her thoughts, ringing out sharply. "What the - _hey, get the fuck off me_!" Turning around, Clementine spotted a lone walker clawing at Troy, grabbing his jacket and dragging him into the woods. More walkers lurched behind it, but hadn't reached him just yet.

She moved without thinking, turning back to Sarah for a moment and firmly telling her, "Sarah, stay with Rebecca, Luke, and Sarita. Stay with them. I _promise_ I'll come back." Even though her heart told her not to promise, she couldn't help it; Sarah needed to hear those words. The girl nodded shakily, and Clementine didn't stay to hear her quiet response; she sprinted forward, towards the walker and Troy.

The man struggled with the creature, his good arm trying to pry the dead fingers off his jacket, but it was no use. With no weapon, he'd be as good as walker food without help; though Clementine didn't particularly _like_ saving his ass, it became something that she just felt she needed to do. He was alive because of her - didn't that make him her responsibility, in a way?

Her cleaver sliced into the walker's face before it could take a bite out of Troy, killing it instantly. Gravity sunk in and it toppled onto Troy, who was weakened enough to be pushed down onto the ground by its force.

"Get up!" Clementine yelled, pulling her weapon from the corpse and raising it towards the four or so still a bit further into the woods. With a sinking despair, she realized that she could not take all of them by herself, especially with one weapon. Her gaze drifted to Troy, as if he could be of any help.

He struggled to his feet, glaring at the incoming walkers. "Can't take 'em ourselves," he muttered, tone focused despite the situation, "we'll need to run into the woods to lose 'em."

Clementine's eyes widened. "That - that's just about the dumbest plan I've ever heard! What if there are _more_ in there?"

"Y'really wanna lead them back to the others?" Troy snarled, already backing up into the forest, away from the walkers. "'sides, I know the way to Parkour's Run. Can lead us there pretty quick."

It was hardly the time, but Clementine crossed her arms. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"Oh for the love of _Christ_ \- y'can do that thing y'were doin' earlier if y'find out I tricked ya!" Troy snapped back, deciding what to do for himself and sprinting into the trees.

"Troy! Troy!" Clementine hissed after him. What an _idiot_! He couldn't survive by himself, and she didn't want to lead the walkers (and any others that may be hiding nearby) to Rebecca and the others, so what choice did she have?

She'd really have to grab his stumpy arm _good_ when they reached the museum.

After casting a glance back at the others, she yelled, "We'll be fine! Meet you at Parkour's Run!" and chased after the one-armed moron.

He wasn't as fast as she thought; after a few moments, she caught up to him and shot a glare his way. "What the heck is wrong with you? This is _stupid_!"

Troy flashed her a sour look right back. "Relax, kid. Think of it this way - we'll be good and covered in here."

"Maybe _you_ will be," Clementine muttered, huffing an exasperated sigh. "_You're_ the one in camouflage." With disdain, she glanced down at the jacket Bonnie had given her; though warm, the neon blue color was easy to spot among the dark green foliage of the forest.

"Hey, I'm not sayin' you're a dumbass for pickin' that color, but… you're a dumbass."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and reminding herself not to take the words to heart, and that this was _Troy_ \- he obviously didn't know the first thing about survival.

Aside from constantly licking Carver's shoes, of course.


	5. Chapter 5

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Wow look at us on Chapter 5! Where is this going? Who knows! I'm gonna try to remake episode 4, though! With more Troy, Sarah, and Nick, for sure! Probably Sarita too!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

The growls of several walkers echoed in the forest, the sunset's streaks of orange splashing on Clementine's face as her feet took her in one direction as fast as she could. Behind her, her one-armed charge was stumbling and breathing heavily as he struggled to keep up. She didn't want to stop - wanted to just leave him to walkers and get to Parker's Run to meet her real friends - but everything would have been for nothing if she did.

And she didn't save him for _nothing_.

"Hurry!" Slowing down, the girl whipped around and clamped her hand around the camouflaged fabric of Troy's jacket, yanking him along as his pace began to slow down. He was panting, pained gasps leaving his lips as they ran along, and it became clear that he couldn't keep running.

"S- slow down, you little…" he wheezed, the usual venom in his voice disguised as fatigue. No, she absolutely couldn't slow down, not with the walkers behind them snarling and hunting them like prey. Her fingers clasped his sleeve tighter, refusing to let go and stop dragging him.

"We can't slow down," she replied sharply, her tone almost scolding. "You _know_ we can't." Slowing down meant surrendering - which meant immediate, assured _death_. Couldn't Troy see that, even in his injured state?

He looked on the verge of passing out, his skin paling and his eyes forming a hazy glaze over them, but something kept him on his feet. Maybe it was the pure fear of what would happen if they stopped, or a stubbornness that he couldn't let go of. Whatever the case, Clementine was glad he wasn't collapsing, because that would mean the end, as she couldn't very well carry him (nor did she want to).

Troy was keeping himself alive at this point - she couldn't do so any longer.

And so they raced through the forest, Clementine asking which way to go and Troy providing directions as best he could in his condition, and she could only hope they were on the right track. They weren't on a set path with signs anymore, which would have made things a _hell_ of a lot easier.

But no, someone had to suggest they take the forest route. That certain someone seemed to forget that he was missing one of his limbs and had lost enough blood to satisfy Bunnicula for a few _weeks_.

Actually, no - Bunnicula sucked the juice out of vegetables, not actual blood.

Wait - why was she thinking of a vampire rabbit at this time? When there were literally mindless creatures following the two of them through the forest, and her companion was about as useful as a sip of apple juice to ease the pain of digging a needle into a wound.

Speaking of, that wound still bothered her at times when she moved her arm the wrong way, but luckily her jacket (the same one that Troy had scorned) was keeping it from getting jerked around or cut into deeper. In a way, it was cocooning it until it scabbed over and became a scar.

Troy's injury was a bit different; his would take much, much longer to heal, but at least it had finally stopped dripping blood. The bandages were deep red by now, the rope keeping the blood flow clotted also painted the crimson color, but it wasn't leaving a trail behind them any longer. He may not be completely out of danger, but it was a step in the right direction.

"U-up here, we're gonna turn left." Troy's mutter snapped Clementine out of her thoughts; she gave a nod to him and shifted them in the direction he had indicated. "Do… do you see the path up the hill?" He continued, his voice growing quieter.

She lifted her head; indeed, just as he indicated, the trees fanned out until they had dissolved into an small open space, a nearby hill sloping upwards. It didn't look too steep, and Clementine could scarcely see the markings of a path at the top. If Troy had been correct (and she hoped he wasn't lying at this point, but she never knew with people like him), they just had to follow that path and find the signs that pointed to Parker's Run. It would be easy once they made it up that hill.

Crunching through the fallen leaves littered at her feet, the girl paused and sized up the hill, her gaze flicking to her companion.

"Do you think you'll be able to get up that hill?" she asked, honestly unsure of his capabilities. It didn't look like much for her, but she was small and agile, and he was missing an arm…

He didn't seem to be eager to show his weakness, however. Rolling his eyes, the man snapped, "Of fuckin' course I can. It's not even _steep_, Clementine; you're makin' a mountain out of a molehill - _literally_." With no further comment, he marched up to the slope and, after a moment's hesitation, started to climb.

It was sort of pathetic to watch.

He wasn't making much progress, struggling at a spot near the bottom; his stump arm twitched as if he meant to move it to crawl up the hill, but once he realized that _that_ wouldn't work, attempted to save face and use his non-dominant hand to keep his balance.

With a sigh, Clementine grabbed his jacket again and began dragging him up the hill; which, according to him, wouldn't be a problem. She may not see him as a definite threat anymore, but that didn't mean she had to trust his word. Clearly, he didn't even know his own strength (or lack thereof).

Troy, of course, didn't like her decision, but she hardly cared. "Wh- Quit it! Goddamnit, let - _let me go_!" He growled, wriggling in her grasp and attempting to pry her off. Obviously, however, it didn't work, and he merely looked silly in his attempts.

"Quiet," the girl muttered in response, her expression clearly not amused. "Be an adult and quit whining for once!" For God's sake, she was eleven and she was not acting this bad. How did someone like this survive in Carver's 'community' for as long as he did? It remained a mystery to her.

After a few more minutes of struggling (well, more like Troy desperately trying to flail out of her grasp and Clementine only gripping that much tighter, as if to spite him), they finally made it up the hill. It didn't seem like much when they'd found it, but with the amount of effort she used to merely _get up it_, Clementine already felt a bit tired. But sleep could wait - they needed to get to Parker's Run, and quickly.

She was worried about the others, after all; the small group of walkers didn't look like much, but she'd seen people die going up against even smaller amounts. It did make her nervous, not having anyone familiar (or friendly) around her, but she needed to be brave. Lee had taught her well.

Once they were safely back on the inclined path the hill had led to, she let go of her companion's jacket. He was glaring fiercely at her and moved to smack her, but the injury had slowed him down considerably, and she was able to dodge out of his way in time.

"Don't hit me!" she scolded, as if he was a child.

"You fuckin' _dragged_ me up there!" he shot back, still catching his breath.

With a deadpan expression, Clementine replied, "Well, you weren't making much progress yourself. I was _helping_ you get up the hill."

The man obviously didn't think it was so funny. "Yeah _fuckin'_ right," he hissed, teeth gnashed together in anger. "A-anyway, this here path leads straight to the museum. See the signs?" Pointing, he indicated the advertisements posted all along the path for Parker's Run. One would have to be blind to not be able to figure out where it was; and even if that were the case, Clementine doubted it'd be missed.

She held her gaze ahead of them, hand clenched around her cleaver's hilt just in case. "When we get there," she began, eyes scanning their surroundings, "we're going to wait for the others. Unless they're already there."

"What about my fuckin' arm?"

"What about it?" She looked at him, noticing for the first time how red the bandages had become; it didn't look infected or anything (not that she could tell, to be fair), but it was already bleeding through the tourniquet a bit - just dripping slightly for now, like a sink faucet that someone forgot to turn off all the way, but she realized that soon it could become a steady stream of blood (blood, she noted, that Troy couldn't afford to lose anymore of).

"Oh," she whispered, his concern making sense now.

[Deal with it.]

[Do you need to stop?]

**[We'll get someone to look at it.]**

[...]

"When we meet with the others, we'll have someone change the bandages," she offered, biting the inside of her cheek absentmindedly. "I'm sure Sarita could help again… she did it before…"

It didn't seem right to make Sarita his caretaker, though; Clementine had been the one who forced him into the group with her split-second decision. Maybe she should change the bandages. It wasn't like she was squeamish; that side of her had decayed long ago after seeing how gruesome everyday life had become. Sewing up the huge gash in her own arm helped numb her to gore, as well.

"Or I could," she added thoughtfully, unsure of where she was even going with her response now. Hopefully he got the point - it _would_ be taken care of, no matter who was doing it.

Scoffing, Troy didn't respond, focusing his own sights on what was ahead of them. Clementine rolled her eyes and followed suit, gazing at the building at the end of the path. Judging by the signs reading 'PARKER'S RUN,' it seemed to be the exact place they were meant to go. There were no signs of the others, unfortunately, but the area was big enough to start scouting for supplies and safe spots.

Once they reached the actual museum at the end of the path - in shambles, but could possibly still be holding some treasures - Clementine turned to Troy. "You look pale," she muttered. "You should probably sit down for a bit." She gestured to a corner of the small first floor of the building, by some displays of some civil war relics.

Troy didn't need to be told twice. Without a word, he obeyed, walking over to the corner and sitting down, his head low and his breathing heavy. She didn't feel sorry for him, but it was still sort of sad to watch. He'd been powerful enough, once, albeit an asshole. "Fuckin' kid…" he muttered, though it was halfhearted.

Watching him settle down and keeping an eye out for any danger around, Clementine decided to look around the museum a bit. There wasn't much left in terms of displays, but what was left standing was quite interesting. Maps and battle strategies were behind glass cases, indicating specific events of the civil war. Clementine hadn't gotten to learn about that in school before the world changed, but all she could think of while scavenging was Lee.

"Lee would've loved this place…" she murmured under her breath, a hollowness washing over her.

She missed Lee so much. It felt like just yesterday he was by her side; every time she was reminded of him, a part of her heart felt as though it'd been ripped out - and she knew she wouldn't ever get those parts of her back, either.

Dragging her gaze from the display (and the memories associated with it), Clementine continued to look around for items, noticing a gray coat seated inside one of the broken exhibits. She picked it up, examining it thoroughly before turning to Troy.

"Do you think Rebecca would like this?" she asked. The woman was probably closer to giving birth than she let on, and even still, she could use something to keep her warm if they were going to keep heading north.

The man shrugged weakly, a glaze over his eyes. "It's a fucking Confederate coat, y'know."

Glancing down at it, Clementine realized that he was right. Lee had told her once about the Confederates and the Union in the Civil War, but hadn't gotten to explore much deeper than that. She did remember Lee saying the Confederates had gray coats, though. She was a bit surprised Troy knew that, but then again, it was common knowledge.

"It's still a coat," she pointed out, shrugging herself. It would be up to Rebecca if she was going to accept it or not, but Clementine seriously doubted she'd have an issue with it. Things like this were so petty nowadays; everything could be useful, despite sour origins.

Actually, that applied to Troy, as well. Maybe he could prove his worth if he cleaned up his attitude a little.

She handed the coat off to the man, and continued to look around, noticing a slightly-sealed opening to a small, office-like room. Tilting her head, Clementine crouched and peered inside.

"There's… there's a whole tub of fresh water in there!" she exclaimed, eyes shimmering at the clean-looking container just out of her reach. "I think I can squeeze in there to get it…"

However, before she could do so, a small chirping noise echoed through the ruins of the museum. It was faint, but she managed to hear it in the quietness of her surroundings; clutching her cleaver tightly, she looked around, following the sound until she found the source.

A fluffy, small raccoon was poking around on the opposite side of the building, sniffing and clawing the ground for anything edible. She stared at it, wide-eyed, and looked back at Troy. She didn't want his advice or anything, but she did want to see if he saw it.

And he did. Eyes a bit wider, he leaned forward and gazed at the animal, eyes flicking back to Clementine. Nodding, he whispered, "Go get it. We could use a decent fuckin' meal."

She did want to say that if he wanted the damn thing so badly, he should get it himself, but she knew he couldn't do that. With an inaudible sigh, she turned back towards the raccoon and silently crept towards it, eyes fixated on its black and gray pelt. Indeed, it would make a great meal, especially for the weaker members of their party.

Holding her breath, Clementine leapt forward, arms outstretched and ready to grab the animal. Once she moved, however, the raccoon was alerted of her presence, thus making it able to dodge her (rather slow) attempt at a pounce. It chirped wildly, as if angry with her for attempting to grab it, and scurried further into the museum. It passed Troy, who made a pitiful motion to snatch it up, but it merely hissed at him in response. His eyes wide, he brought a hand up in defense, watching it climb over his legs. With no care to his comfort, it no doubt scratched up his legs with its claws and moved on, darting around the back of the ruins and outside once more.

Clementine flashed a glare at Troy, who gave her one just as fierce right back. "What the shit was that? You couldn't have done a better job?" he asked, huffing. She merely crossed her arms in response, rolling her eyes.

"You didn't do such a very good job," she grumbled. "And _you_ wanted to get it."

"Because it was _meat_! It could'a fed a lotta us!" '_Most importantly me_' were probably the unspoken words at the end of that sentence.

She shrugged. "Well, sorry we weren't fast enough. We're only two people." Well, no, one and a half people, to be precise - but she was keeping that amusing thought to herself.

He just sighed, leaning further into the wall, his eyes slipping closed briefly. Awkwardly, Clementine fidgeted with her cleaver, flipping it over and inspecting its bloody blade absentmindedly.

"Why did you do it?"

The question was so quiet, she almost thought she'd imagined it; she had trouble comprehending that such a small sound came from Troy. _Troy_, who had yelled and barked around the camp like the lapdog he was. _Troy_, who had screamed his lungs off when the blade sliced through his flesh. _Troy_, who had complained the whole way to Parker's Run and even yelled at her for not being able to catch a swift raccoon.

"I was as good as dead," he continued, voice still uncharacteristically soft, "and yet you lopped my bitten arm off without any fuckin' hesitation. I was a weak link, and I should'a died 'cause of that. Least, that's what Bill would'a said. So... _why_?"

Eyes widened, she pondered the actual meaning of his words before choosing to answer. She had thought about this before, of course, constantly doubting whether or not she had done the right thing. He'd probably never thank her for the action, but it meant something to her to have saved a human being's life. Maybe it was just the harsh way the world was now that prompted her to choose a more righteous path.

It was what Lee would have done - she was sure of it, now. It was Lee's path, and also the one furthest from Carver's.

"You may have been weak, and Carver would have considered you someone to throw away." That much was true, and they both knew it. However, there was a difference between Carver's philosophy and what remained of humanity in them all. She spoke firmly with her head held high, repeating words she'd heard once before: "But that is _not_ how the world works now."


	6. Chapter 6

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Notes: **Hi everyone! Thanks so much for leaving nice reviews! Please continue to give me feedback if you can; it means the world to me! Also, I should mention that I know Troy doesn't have any canon redeemable traits in him – I usually navigate towards liking asshole characters in general, and it's even better when I can give them human traits when their canon stories do not. I plan to do that with Troy, of course, as I believe every Walking Dead Game character has a story to tell. Oh! And thanks to obsessed naruhina fangirl for the mention of Clementine's arm! I remembered it, but she was correct in saying it should be addressed at some point. I hope it's to everyone's liking!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

Clementine let out a long sigh, propping herself up on the counter and sliding herself forward on her belly, attempting to squeeze through the small crevice to get into the locked office. The sparkling water inside the small room taunted her, just sitting there and waiting for her to grab it. But she realized with frustration that she wasn't quite as small as she'd once been; she couldn't fit in the narrow opening, and managed to even get stuck.

Wriggling around, she let out a quiet hiss, her limbs flailing and trying to pry her body one way or the other. It was no use; she'd have to ask for _his_ help to get out of there – and he'd better damn get her out, because the water would be helpful for everyone, including him. "Troy!" she yelled, grunting with effort and turning her head in his general direction. "Troy, I need help!"

"What? Jesus! Kid, you can't do _anythin_', can you?" His response was muffled, but she could detect his own irritation plainly in the words.

"I can do more than you," she muttered, rolling her eyes. He seemed to have forgotten who'd saved his ass more than once already (then again, this _was_ Troy). Raising her voice, she added, "Hurry!"

Ignoring his annoyed grumbles, she glanced around the back office while waiting for him; everything looked untouched, despite the state of the rest of the museum. The water tub was most likely a refill for a cooler or something like that – though it didn't matter what it had been used for, because it would be put to good use now. Clementine's mouth felt dry just staring at it; she hadn't had a drink for at least half a day now, and it just looked like heaven in a bottle.

In fact, a closer look revealed that there was _another_ bottle right beside it, fresh for the picking; she almost wept in relief.

A pull on her legs interrupted her bliss. Familiar grunts from outside the office clued her in on Troy's rough efforts to yank her out; he was being careless, and she wasn't sure if it was just because he was injured.

"Be careful!" she snapped, the pulls starting to hurt.

"I'm... I'm tryin'!" he yelled back, though she seriously doubted he was trying to be gentle. "You try doin' this with one arm and see how easy it fuckin' is!" After a few more yanks, she heard him yelp in pain, and she was let go.

"Troy!" she cried, her mind racing. Every second she was stuck here was another second she could be put into danger – and Troy was not helping! She needed to get out immediately, before any walkers appeared.

Oh God, what if he ran off and left her here to die? It would be just like him, too – after she'd just told him why she'd saved him!? That she believed that she needed to do _good_ instead of following Carver's example? But Troy was a part of Carver's community – put in an authority position, no less – so of course he had to disagree. The 'survival of the fittest' lessons were probably ground into his mind by that madman.

She shouldn't have even tried to get in like this; maybe she should've attempted to get into the room some other way. She should have thought it through and realized who she was with and not only his limits, but her own. She couldn't stay small forever, after all. Lee had told her that she was smarter than walkers, but she wasn't so sure anymore. It was too late now, anyway, too late to regret; she struggled harder, her yells to Troy becoming pleas. "Troy! Get me out!"

Her screams were gaining in volume, but before she could realize how much danger she was putting herself in, familiar snarls sounded nearby. _Oh no. _A sinking feeling pooled into her stomach, her heart speeding up as she whipped her head back and forth in fear, trying to find where the noise was coming from. It was obvious what it was – but where was it?

A walker crawled out from under the desk in the office, its hands already stretched forward as it clawed its way across the floor. It was chained to the radiator near the water coolers, cuff glistening around its rotten wrist. Clementine knew she wasn't safe, though – the metal of the handcuffs was rusted through and the creature's wrist was rotting off, both chipping away at each pull. She swallowed hard, eyes bugging wide as she writhed to get herself unstuck.

"Troy! Troy, there's a walker in here!" she shrieked, watching it grumble and claw for her. Flashbacks to Lee being chained in a similar fashion threatened to flood her mind, but she wouldn't let them. Survival was the most important thing now. "_**Troy**_!"

Panic started to crawl through her as the walker's wrist snapped off with a loud crack, and it stumbled forward, lifeless eyes fixated on her hungrily; she'd seen that look before, the look of a hunter that found prey. Stuck here, she was just a convenient meal for it.

No! She'd come too far to die here!

Time slowed down. There was a loud bang, the sound of wood snapping off metal hinges as the office door was forced open. The walker's face was a few feet away from her, rotten teeth already gnawing in preparation for her flesh; blurs of green and red flashed before her, and the creature sunk to the ground.

Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears, her hands trembling as she pushed herself up on the surface on the other side of the office below her, peering over the edge to get a better look.

The walker was sprawled out on the floor, its jaw still unhinged hungrily and macabre arms outstretched towards her. It was still as stone, rotten blood gushing from a glistening opening in its head that resembled a black tomato split open.

Was it... really dead?

Clementine pushed the initial shock away, her head lifting to see Troy standing over her, her cleaver in hand, both now decorated with the putrid guts of the dead walker. She hadn't realized that tears had pricked her eyes; wiping them away quickly, she stared up at the man, trying to slow her racing heart.

"Th... thanks," she murmured, suddenly feeling out of breath.

He didn't answer, merely using a hand to lift the office shade, pulling it up far enough (even with his lack of strength) so that she could wriggle forward and fall to the ground. As she hit the floor, she let out a quiet "oof!" and sat there for a few minutes to calm herself down.

She wondered what took him so long, but the answer was clear as she looked around the office; the door had been struck until it snapped off its hinges, probably needing more than a few kicks to get it open. Contrary to her fears, he didn't abandon her – whether that was his own choice or just a twisted way to keep her around to protect him, she didn't know (nor did she want to).

"Y'didn't get bit, did you?" he asked, slitted brown eyes focused on her. Immediately, she shook her head, showing her arms to him to prove the walker hadn't even touched her before he'd intervened.

"No, I'm okay," she assured. "But – but why did you help me?"

Troy quirked a brow, lips pursed in puzzlement. "Well, there was water in here, like y'said. Needed to get at that shit myself if you ended up dyin', anyway." After she flashed him a glare, he added, "'sides, I guess I didn't want to deal with the world's smallest lurker. It would'a just been pathetic to see."

Ugh. He just _had_ to insult her, didn't he? He couldn't say _one_ nice thing? She crossed her arms, pursing her lips. "But you could've just hit me in the head, too, if I turned. You didn't _have_ to help me," she pointed out bitterly.

Scoffing, the man replied, "What, y'didn't _want_ my help? Could'a fooled me, the way you were screamin' my name like you were bein' eaten alive."

Her eyes narrowed. Of course she wanted his help in that situation, but the truth was she just didn't think he'd do anything. In fact, she was almost expecting him to run away; maybe he was smarter than he appeared.

"C'mon," he continued, "we got our asses in here, so now we gotta take the water and leave. It ain't safe here." He scanned the small room, as if more walkers would spring out of and around the dead one at their feet.

Clementine nodded; she knew they had to move. The problem, however, lied in the size of the water cooler - she doubted either of them would be able to carry it. They could always wait for the others to come back, but the possibility of bandits nearby worried her. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she'd seen thieves destroy her group before, and didn't want that to happen again.

Before she could voice her concerns, Troy clutched onto one of the bottles, lifting it with a grunt to his good shoulder. "G-grab the other one," he muttered, teeth gnashed together. His expression was distorted with obvious pain, and the girl noticed that his severed limb was bleeding faster now. They'd have to get to a secluded area, and quick – and then she could take care of him.

But a thought suddenly struck her – the coat! "One second," she said, hurrying back to the exhibit remains and placing both the Confederate coat and her cleaver into her backpack, returning to him as quickly as she could. He merely glared at her, but said nothing.

Facing the remaining bottle, she took a deep breath. This would take a lot of strength – she was still pretty weak physically, and part of her still felt shaken up from that near-brush with death. "Clementine! C'mon, hurry!" Troy probably meant to sound like he was barking orders (like back at Howe's), but his words merely sounded pained and desperate. Without answering him, she crouched, placing both hands on the bottom of the cooler, groaning in effort as she lifted it off the ground. Her back hunched over as she turned around to face the man.

"S'almost as big as you," he commented humorlessly, turning around and beginning to walk out of the office. He stumbled a bit, nearly losing his footing a few times as they left the museum. They both agreed that they'd have to come back if they or any of the group wanted to dig around deeper for supplies, and that water was the most important thing right now, anyway.

Clementine felt the water weighing her down, and nearly fell a couple times herself, her fingers trying desperately to keep a firm grasp on the slippery surface. Both of them kept a slow but fixed pace, keeping their gazes focused ahead as they tried to forget their current struggles – Troy's pain and Clementine's depleting strength.

After traveling down the marked path a little more, the clearing for Parker's Run appeared before them; a giant map of the tourist attraction marked the area, as well as a giant statue of a soldier carrying another. Clementine noticed a tent set up nearby, and almost let out a long sigh of relief. "Look over there!" she indicated, nodding her head towards her discovery.

"Thank _Christ_," the man replied, his voice sounding far away. Carelessly, he threw the water onto the ground, his legs buckling and his knees hitting the dirt roughly. Clementine placed her water container next to his and approached him cautiously, watching as he hunched over himself, his hand planted firmly on the ground for support.

"Do you think you can crawl into the tent?" she asked, swinging her backpack off into her arms. He just scoffed and muttered that of _course_ he could, and scrambled forward on his hand and knees into the tent.

They were lucky - it was empty. Not the best place to be, but a good enough spot to wait for the others, anyway. She seated herself a bit ways off from the entrance, just in the case that walkers might get the idea to pop in (she doubted it, though).

Her companion seated himself across from her, once more looking pale and weak; he'd most likely pushed himself too far, exhausting his injured body. She wasn't an expert on this, though; it would have been so much better for everyone in this situation (and in general) if Carlos was still alive. Though, Clementine didn't want to think he was just a doctor and was therefore useful to them. Sarah mourned his lost life, so she felt the rest of the group should, too.

They were like family now, after all.

Sadly, nowadays there was barely time to grieve over lost friends and family. Sighing, Clementine decided to think about it later, and trained her eyes over her companion, watching him lean back against the material and close his eyes for a few moments, quiet pants escaping his lips.

"Are you going to be okay?" she whispered, holding her breath in case he wouldn't respond and the worst happened.

Thankfully, though, he opened his eyes, nodding. "Y... yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It just... it fuckin' _hurts_." Clenching his teeth and letting out a pained hiss, he adjusted his sitting position to meet her gaze better.

"But at least you're alive," she pointed out, not even bothering to admit that she was also alive now because of him. She was grateful, of course, but she still had her pride. Plus, it was _Troy –_ and she still didn't like him.

He nodded again, breathing a deep sigh. "No shit, Clementine..." He examined his stump arm, his heavy breaths the only sound in that quiet tent. Clementine couldn't even begin to wonder what he was thinking, but if it were her, she'd be growing a bit concerned on how she was going to live with only three out of the four limbs she'd been born with.

After unzipping her backpack and taking out the bandages and things she'd grabbed from the drugstore. She also grabbed her cleaver and kept it near her - just in case of an emergency. Her eyes carefully tracked from the man's pained face to his injury, and then back down to her tools. She was no expert on first aid, but she'd have to try – it was getting critical.

She hesitated, unsure where to even start. What did she do for her arm? That cabin and shed scenario seemed like it had happened forever ago, but it had only been about a week. She'd snuck into the cabin for antiseptic, bandages, and a sewing needle – so she had to clean, bandage, and stitch – oh God if she had to _stitch his severed limb shut_...

No, she decided against that; she was not squeamish in the least, but it was more than she owed him – more than he _deserved_ right now. Plus, she really wasn't sure if she could stitch such a huge wound shut properly, and might end up doing more damage than aid, anyway. She'd clean and bandage it, as well as apply a new tourniquet. That was more than enough right now, and he should be thankful he was getting that much.

What first? It would help if she could get the big camouflage obstruction out of the way. "Troy, can you, um... take off your jacket?" she asked, crawling over towards him with a few rolls of bandages and the quarter-empty bottle of antiseptic. She absolutely did not want to do this, but she had to remind herself that Lee would have. Lee would be happy with her for this; he'd be _proud_ that she was doing such a tough thing for someone so difficult and unpleasant.

The man flashed her a glare, but shook his head. "Don't think I can," he replied, and she believed him.

Pursing her lips, she decided that that they had to remove the jacket. Holding onto his sleeve, she pulled at it so his good arm was released first. He hissed in pain at her jerking movements, shying away from the touch, but she pursued further.

"We have to," she murmured, a bit frustrated at his efforts to rebel against her. Eventually, she got him to worm his way out of the jacket by his head, and carefully pulled it over his stump arm (but not without a few grunts and whines of pain, of course).

Good thing he didn't lash out – though he probably knew what would've happened if he did.

His gray t-shirt underneath was soaked with blood from his right shoulder down, but at least the wound could breathe a little better. Now all she had to do was remove the rope and work with the chopped area itself.

She pointed to the tourniquet keeping the blood flow to a minimum, ordering him to remove it, because she sure as hell wasn't doing it herself.

"Are you kiddin' me?" he asked, frowning. "That'll just make it worse, you little _idiot_. Remove it and it'll start bleedin' all over. Don't you know what you're doing?"

"I do. Take the rope off," she pressed, eyes narrowing.

"Over my dead fuckin' body!"

The idiot obviously didn't understand how possible that could be if that was left untouched, but was it Clementine's responsibility? Did she really have to take care of Troy? Sure, she wanted to do the right thing, but the man didn't even _want_ her help.

"What do you think we _should_ do, then? Tell me _your_ plan," she snapped, getting irritated with his stubborn behavior. How old was he?

Glancing down at the wound, and then to the items in her hands, Troy replied, "What you got there ought'a work. Spray and bandage. Christ, I should've known better than to trust a kid to help me out. You obviously don't know the first thing about takin' care of wounds."

Clementine's teeth clenched and her eyes narrowed into slits; she could feel herself getting frustrated with him. He didn't know what he was talking about, for one, and didn't think she was capable of doing _anything_, did he?

"We can't do that without _removing the rope_, Troy," she insisted.

Hesitation flashed in his eyes for a moment before he broke from her gaze, a frustrated hiss passing through his lips. "Keepin' it on ain't doin' anythin' wrong."

"If the rope rubs into the wound, it'll hurt a _lot_ more," Clementine hissed lowly. "And it's in the way. I'll clean up the rope and wrap it back around until we find another one or a belt or something."

Troy's nostrils flared and he scooted back from her a bit, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, maybe I don't trust some little _kid_ to not fuckin' wait too long and get me killed when my arm's gushin' blood! Can y'blame me!?"

Realization dawned on her. So, he was _scared_. That made more sense, really; she knew he was on the dumber side, but didn't think he'd refuse so profusely to help himself. He was afraid she'd mess up or something and get him killed.

Well, it didn't change the fact that he was being a _baby_ about the whole thing. And she'd have to prove it to him. She sat back on her legs in a kneeling position, unzipping her jacket and pulling it off with a quiet grunt of effort.

"What are you doin'-"

She merely raised her arm, showing him the bandages still wrapped around her arm. "You see this?" she asked.

"Yeah...?" He quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in a way that reminded her of Sam.

Deciding that she'd need to change her own bandages, anyway, she peeled the sticky fabric, noticing the sloppy stitchings still in place. Carlos had said she'd done a good enough job with sewing it up, and more or less cleaned it more and bandaged it when he took care of her. She had been a bit relieved that her painful endeavor hadn't been for nothing.

"What the – you get bit!?" The one-armed man edged himself away from her even further, his back pressed against the tent's wall.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "No. Well, a dog bit me, actually – about a week ago. When I met Luke's group, they didn't believe me, so they locked me in the shed for the night by myself."

"Lot more than Bill would'a done," Troy muttered. "He'd'a probably just cut off your arm and left you in the yard all night to see if you turned anyway."

Thoughtfully, she asked, "Was that what he did with Reggie?"

"That's right, kiddo," Troy replied with a nod.

She decided she didn't like him calling her that, but didn't press it. Instead, she practically shoved her arm in his face, pointing at the stitches. "You see these?"

He moved his head away from her, averting his gaze. "God – get your gross arm outta my face, Clementine! C'mon, I don't wanna see that shit!"

She didn't move. "Too bad. Do you see the stitches?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I see 'em! What about 'em!?"

Pulling back once she knew he got a look, she snapped, "I had to sew this all up _myself –_ with nothing but a sip of apple juice for comfort. I did it, digging the _needle_ into my _open wound_ all by myself in a shed." She traced her finger lightly across the stitches; they reminded her of little black spiders crawling around her arm. After gazing at them thoughtfully, she glared back at Troy. "If I can do that, you can get over yourself and take that rope off so I can clean the wound. You need to quit being a baby and let me _help you_ or you'll _die_."

And whether she liked him or not, Clementine didn't really want Troy to die. She'd seen enough death, yes, but she couldn't ever get _used_ to it being constantly around her. She wouldn't ever become numb to it, and no matter what, death was a tragic thing. Even if it was the cannibals who killed Mark, or the strange man who kidnapped her. Even if it was Troy. Even _Carver_.

The man's face hardened, lips pursed and eyes focused, and for a minute Clementine thought he'd refuse again. But he finally nodded, murmuring something she didn't catch under her breath and returned to his original position.

Proud of herself, the girl sat near his severed limb, waiting for him to remove the rope so she could use his removed jacket to stop the blood flow. The man's breathing grew heavy, his eyes focused on the limb, fingers trembling inches away from the rope.

"Troy, c'mon!" she urged, losing patience.

"Alright, just – just hold on..." He hesitated, eyes screwing shut as he took a long, deep breath and pulled the rope off.

Immediately, he howled in agony, horrified at the blood gushing like a river from the remainder of his arm. Whimpering, he yelled, "It hurts! It- _stop_ _it_! Stop the blood! So much _fuckin' blood_...!"

She moved quickly, pressing the jacket against the amputated area tightly. Making sure to apply as much pressure as she could, she grabbed the antiseptic and readied it. She fought the urge to soothe his cries; he wasn't a child, and she wasn't his mother, so there was no need (nor did she think he deserved it).

Still, she wasn't going to let him alert all walkers within ten miles of their location. "Calm down. I know it hurts, but you need to be quiet so we don't attract walkers."

The words connected with him, miraculously; he quieted down as best he could, eyes still closed tightly.

"It's going to hurt worse for a bit," she warned, not giving him time to react before she removed the jacket and sprayed the wound with as much antiseptic as she could get on there.

With a horrible hissing sound, the wound bubbled white, showing that the area was being cleaned by the medicine. But Troy wasn't even looking at it; he looked like he was trying not to pass out, his eyes glazed over in pain. His teeth sunk down on the back of one of his fingers, tiny streaks of blood falling from how hard he was biting.

Grabbing his hand and prying it out of his teeth's grip, she placed the jacket in his palm, instructing him to place it on the injured area while she prepared the bandages. With shaking and bloody fingers, he managed to keep the fabric in place (at least, for now).

She turned back to her supplies, unrolling a few of the bandages. None could be wasted, so she had to take out just the right amount to wrap around Troy's limb a few times. She glanced at the man, gasping in pain and trying not to go into shock, and placed one of the bandages' ends onto the area.

"You can let go," she told him, and he obeyed. Immediately, she began to wrap the wound, noting each flinch he made as she did so. Once, twice, thrice... at the fourth or fifth wrap-around, she ran out of bandage, and tied a few tight knots to secure it.

Breathing in relief, she sank back to her knees. "It's wrapped."

His head was hung low again, looking positively drained from that, but he wasn't complaining. He raised his gaze slightly, eyes looking through her. "This is just sweet irony," he groaned, humorlessly snickering.

"What do you mean?" she asked, working on disinfecting the rope as he spoke.

"After Mike cut off Reggie's arm, I was supposed to take care of all the first aid shit," he explained, leaning back and lifting his head to stare at the ceiling of the tent. "Know what I said? 'I ain't coddlin' the asshole' and left him to take care of it on his own. Didn't even care. It probably felt like this, or worse." She raised her eyebrows thoughtfully; perhaps there was some odd justice in her decision to lob Troy's arm off.

As she sprayed the rope up and down with antiseptic, making sure it didn't touch the ground (as the last thing she wanted was dirt to get in it), she commented, "Reggie was so sure he was going to be back inside if he behaved. Was that true?" She couldn't see Carver being that forgiving of a man.

Not surprisingly, Troy shook his head, letting out another dry laugh. "N... nah," he muttered, "Bill was never gonna let him in. Reggie was weak. Not 'cause'a his arm, I think, just... he didn't have what it took."

"And what did it take?" Clementine asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hitting children? Shooting anyone on sight? Asking 'how high?' when Carver asked you to jump?"

If so, Troy had what it took completely – not that that was a good thing.

"No, just... conviction. The ability to make sacrifices."

"_Reggie_ was a sacrifice," Clementine shot back, still bitter about the whole thing. "Because Carver thought of him as an object instead of a person. But Carver's way of thinking was _wrong_."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "Watch your mouth, girlie," he snarled, "'til you assholes decided to get up and run, things were goin' just _fine_."

"For you."

"'Cause I _earned_ my place!"

"And look where you are now." With a sigh, Clementine prepared the rope by his bandaged stump. This probably wasn't the best idea, but she had no other means of a tourniquet.

Biting back his pain, Troy just growled, "Look, I'm not sayin' it was perfect, but Bill had a good idea in mind. The strong survive. Killin' one weak link would'a saved the rest."

Clementine's gaze darkened, light brown eyes glittering with anger. "Do you know how Carver died?"

"What-"

She didn't give him a chance to reply, tightening the rope's grip on his wound. "Kenny beat him to death with a crowbar after shooting both his knees. I watched him. Carver died alone, looking up at people who absolutely _despised_ him."

Troy's expression softened. "What does this have to-"

"If you continue to be like him, that'll happen to you." And she really didn't even care. Her voice grew colder as she finished up the rope's knots, standing up and looking down on him. In a way, it was a good indicator of who was the more dominant one in this situation – who called the shots. Clementine wouldn't put up with his bossiness any longer.

"You'll die alone," she warned, "with everyone you left behind being happy that you did."

She could see the realization dawn on his face, some surprise and unknown emotions mixed in, but before either of them could say another word, a hurried voice called from outside.

"Hey, Clementine? You out here?" Poking her head out of the tent, she found Rebecca and Sarita outside. They both seemed okay enough, simply out of breath, but Clementine noticed instantly the distinct lack of someone that she'd left them with.

"What's wrong?" she asked, that familiar sinking feeling pooling into her stomach.

Sarita bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with worry. "It's Sarah."


	7. Chapter 7

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **I don't know if any of you will care really, but Troy is absent for most of this chapter. I really, really hope you like what I did with two of the characters, as I was very upset with how Telltale ended their stories in episode 4. As someone with anxiety, depression, and other related disorders, I was sad that characters I identified with were seen as liabilities by many. I want to continue my fic as if they did live, and even if they end up dying in the end, I want it to feel like a completed story, not cut halfway through its progress. Troy counts in this way, as well.

Anyway, as always, please enjoy, and don't forget to tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

Eyebrows furrowed, Clementine repeated her question. "What's _wrong_?" Her voice was little more than a quiet hiss, frustration settling in. Sarah wasn't with them, though she was supposed to be. Clementine had _promised_ her friend they'd meet up again; looking back, that wasn't the smartest thing to do, but _someone_ decided to run into the woods like a madman.

"May we come in?" Sarita asked, looking over her shoulder. "Rebecca should rest."

The girl nodded, and held the tent's entrance open for them both to crawl in. As soon as she noticed the blood splattered all over Troy and the area surrounding him, Rebecca gasped, her face twisting in shock before flashing their charge a glare.

"You're still here, I see," she noted icily.

At this point, the man was barely conscious, leaned against the wall with his eyes half-closed and head dropping. Still, despite his condition, he managed to bite back, "How's... how's Bill's kid doin'? He close to comin' out?" With a mocking tone, Troy chuckled, his face in a grimace of pain despite himself.

"_What_?" Rebecca's expression darkened, her eyes ablaze with anger; she seemed mere seconds away from grabbing Troy's throat and strangling him. "My husband... _Alvin is dead_ and you fucking dare to talk about my baby like that?! We should've left you in the herd, we should've let you be _lurker food_, for God's sake-"

"Easy, Rebecca," Sarita soothed, rubbing her back as they settled comfortably on the opposite side of the tent. She shot Troy a glare and added, "He's not worth it." The pregnant woman flashed her friend a glance and opened her mouth as if to say something, but simply nodded with a saddened look on her face.

Clementine knew what she was thinking: it wasn't fair that Alvin wasn't here. Whoever's baby it truly was, Alvin was supposed to be the father.

Troy didn't respond to the women; instead, he merely curled his legs further inward, sitting in a rigid position across from the rest of them. With his teeth bared and eyes fiercely narrowed, the man reminded Clementine of a wounded animal; knowing he was injured and unable to fight back against an attack, he lashed out with all the energy he had left.

But honestly, the amputee was the _least_ of her worries right now. Once everyone was settled in the tent, she turned to Sarita and asked, "What about Sarah? Where is she?" Fear simmered in her belly, butterflies going mad as she waited for the woman to reply. Thankfully, Sarita's expression and words revealed worry, rather than straight-up sorrow and grief.

"She was separated from us a while back," she explained, "We ran into Nick and Luke, who went after her. We would have gone with them, but..." her voice trailed off, and she cast a glance at her companion.

"I'm sorry, if I'd been able to keep going, we could've gone to get her..." Rebecca murmured, placing a hand absentmindedly on her stomach. "I just... I needed to rest. I couldn't make the walk, and we saw the clearing up ahead.

"It's understandable," Clementine replied, not at all angry. She wondered how Sarah got separated, when she was practically clinging to the women when the two of them parted. But then again, since Carlos's demise Sarah had been on edge (to put it lightly), and it would make sense if the girl got spooked and ran off.

Clementine couldn't blame her; Sarah had been sheltered and wasn't able to cope with the world just yet. She _could_ understand – it was definitely possible, but it just would take a little longer; sadly, all kids needed to grow up too quickly, and Sarah needed more time to harden herself to the world's horrors. However, she couldn't stay naïve forever.

Before their conversation could continue, footsteps sounded from outside the tent. Cautiously, one hand clutched to her weapon, Clementine poked her head out, and was met instantly with the image of camouflaged pants decorated with walker blood. Raising her gaze, she recognized the panting, terrified tall figure.

"Nick!" she cried, scrambling out of the tent. She noticed instantly that he was alone, and looked around as if Luke and Sarah would appear, as well. After a few moments of stunned silence, she realized that he was by himself, and asked, "What's wrong? Where's Sarah and Luke?" Where was _everyone else_, as well?

Between heavy sighs, Nick replied, "Oh, Clem... thank God... I... I ran back to get someone. Sarah's... she ran off into a nearby trailer park. She's inside one of the homes, and won't move."

"Is she okay?" Clementine asked, chewing at her lip.

"I think so," the man responded, "but she's scared. Luke said he'd try to get her up, but I ran to get help just in case. Do you think you could come with me?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just... let me tell them." Without hearing his response, she crawled into the tent once more, taking in everyone's condition all at once. Rebecca was sitting on the right side, Sarita smiling warmly next to her, while Troy was opposite them, his breathing shallow and eyes half-closed.

"Nick's here. We're going to bring Sarah and Luke back. Can you take care of...?" Her voice trailed off, merely casting a glance over at the nearly-asleep amputee.

Sarita gave a sigh, a good-hearted glitter in her eyes despite Troy's nastiness towards her and Rebecca, and nodded. "We'll be able to handle things here, Clementine. Don't worry. Please, be safe."

Clementine smiled; Sarita was very caring to people like Troy, yes, but the girl was also impressed with how motherly she became for the group. Like Kenny became a sort of father figure to her, his girlfriend kept the same air of parental watchfulness.

Flashing a glance back down at her weapon, she offered the cleaver to Sarita, who gave her a confused look in return. Flicking one more gaze over to Troy, she murmured, "In case... in case things go bad, you need to be able to protect yourself." Honestly, this whole situation was a toss-up now; she'd changed his bandages, reapplied the tourniquet, and disinfected the wound. As far as she knew, that was all she could do, save from stitching it shut (which wasn't possible). If he died, it wouldn't be on her hands, as she had given all her effort.

That didn't mean she wanted him to die, though; to say she wanted _anyone_ to die was a flat-out lie.

Hesitantly, Sarita accepted the weapon, keeping a hard stare down at it. "Are you sure you don't need it?" she asked.

With a nod, Clementine assured, "Nick and Luke will be with me. I'll be safe." At least, she hoped; she could always find another weapon, as well. Flashing a glance at Troy and curling her lips into a slight smirk, she added, "Make sure you be _good_, Troy."

The man barely acknowledged her statement, shooting a glare her way but ultimately not saying anything in response. He looked on the very of passing out, or falling asleep, and she didn't have the heart to bother him at the moment. With a shrug to herself, she nodded to three of them and returned to Nick.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

* * *

Flashes of green whirled by, barely having time to form into visible trees as Clementine's feet took her as fast as she could go through the forest. Heart pounding and ears roaring, panic and determination fueled her to keep running. Though she was smaller than him, she was keeping a good enough pace to keep up with Nick, following right on his heels.

"How much further?" she called, keeping her gaze trained ahead. Nick had entered from the other side of the clearing, opposite where Clementine and Troy had come into it from, so she had no idea what was up ahead.

"It's just up ahead," Nick answered, his voice hushed and focused. Faintly, she noticed the outline of some telephone poles in the distance, followed by the square shape of mobile homes growing closer and closer with each footstep.

The trailer park came into view all at once, a rusty green fence surrounding the perimeter. Trucks and cars parked outside were left abandoned, the corpses of walkers littering the crowd like giant, people-shaped boulders. Nick didn't stop running, leading her to an opening in the fence. Peeking through it, Clementine noted the pieces of a swing set and slide crumbled onto the ground. A small merry-go-round was tilted and distorted despite its happy colors still painted on, with a mushy, mud-covered sandbox sitting next to it. A smaller, wooden fence separated the broken playground from the mobile home in the back, creating the image of a playplace that probably made some kids happy once.

Without warning, Clementine thought of the swing at the St. John's dairy – but only for a moment. She shoved the thought away and turned back to the man; finding Sarah and Luke was the top priority, not being haunted by memory lane.

"Through here," Nick announced, maneuvering around the hole in the fence. Just as she made her way through it, however, he hissed, "Oh shit! Clem, get down!" and ducked behind the swing set. She followed him, getting low to the ground to see what he'd been alerted to.

Unsurprisingly, there were a few walkers on the other side of the wooden planks of the fence, wandering around as aimlessly as ever. Two blocked their path to the next yard, where Nick seemed to be leading them to. With a sinking feeling, Clementine realized she didn't have her cleaver anymore, and the man crouched beside her was weaponless, as well. When she pointed this out to him, Nick frowned, his expression wilting, as though he hadn't thought about that.

"Shit," he muttered, "fuck, of _course_ I didn't ask Luke for his machete before leavin'. Of _course_..." Tugging the brim of his hat down to cover his eyes, he shook his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

"It's okay," Clementine assured, "we can find weapons everywhere." Lee had taught her that – everything and anything was fair game to be used against walkers. If it was sharp or sturdy, it could slice or smash the brain in with no problem.

Luckily, there were broken wooden planks surrounding the swing set, the edges looking sharp enough to pierce into a walker's skull – or, at the very least, it could bludgeon one to death. She grabbed onto the end and yanked on it, but she wasn't strong enough to break it free. When he noticed what she was trying to do, Nick slid himself forward, taking a hold of the pieces of wood and, with a grunt of effort, pried it free from the wreckage and handed it to her.

"Nice goin', Clem," he murmured, though _he_ had been the one to get it. "D'you think you could get the one closest to us? I'll try to distract it long enough for you to get it."

She hesitated, not exactly liking the idea of him fighting walkers with no weapons. When he noticed her caution, he added, "I can do it. It's just like back in the forest, after Pete..." His voice trailed off, and he didn't dare finish the sentence.

Clementine was aware he _could_ fight off walkers with his bare hands, as he'd done it before to distract them and allowing her an escape, but at the same time, she worried about him. Nick was reckless, though a good guy – she feared he might try to become a sacrifice when all he needed to be was a distraction. Because of that, she glanced around again, hoping to spot something he could use.

There! Pointing to the metal supports that had once held the slide together, she whispered, "You can use one of those pipes. Should be enough to at least smack a walker down."

Nick's eyes brightened and, without a word, he picked up one of the broken-off pieces of pipe, lightly tapping the metal in his hand to get a feel of how firm it was. Pleased, he smirked and met her gaze, seeming much braver than before. "Alright, which one do you want?"

"We can keep the original plan," she replied, "I'll get the one closest, and you go for the furthest one?"

"Sounds good. I've got your back if you need me."

Nodding her thanks, Clementine cautiously stepped out from behind the playground equipment, her eyes trained on the walker on the other side of the fence. A small hole provided her with a path to it; once its back was turned, she made a break for it, leaping through the opening and swinging the wooden plank onto the walker's head. It turned around, empty white eyes glaring hungrily at her, but she pulled back and swung again.

This time, the creature lost its balance, falling to the ground on its back. Wasting no time, she swung the plank at its head multiple times, feeling its head collapse after the fourth or fifth hit. When it finally lay still, she stopped, turning back to Nick.

"Nice job!" he whispered with a smile, obviously pleased. Taking a deep breath, he murmured something to himself and, after hopping the fence, stepped forward, his tall form shrinking down some to emulate stealth. The girl watched him carefully, her hands still wrapped around the bloody wooden plank, just in case.

Nick prowled towards the walker, swinging the pipe through the air and whacking it off its head with a sickening snapping sound. With only one hit, the creature dropped to the ground, allowing the man one extra hit on it before it stopped moving. Motioning to Clementine to follow, he slowly crept through the yard, making his way towards a dumpster, taking out another walker attempting to get over it.

Smiling, Clementine followed his lead, staying low to the ground. Once she reached the dumpster, she peered over it, noticing instantly the small herd attempting to get into one of the mobile homes. Based on Nick's lead, and judging by their shit luck lately, Clementine had to guess that Luke and Sarah were behind that door.

"That's a lot of walkers," she remarked quietly, apprehension worming its way onto her expression. Nick took notice of her worry and bit his lip.

"I know, but we need to get in there. We gotta get to Luke and Sarah..." Something had changed about Nick recently; she hadn't really noticed until now, but it seemed like he had more courage. The fierce determination in his eyes was proof enough that he was more of a hero now, even if he still saw himself as a villain.

Despite what had happened on the bridge, Clementine had started to see him as a hero, too.

"How do we get in?" she asked.

Nick paused, looking around. "Fuck, I – I don't know, fuck, _fuck_..." He struggled to think of something, anxiety clearly written over his face at coming up with a solution on the spot. "Maybe – I don't know, maybe if we used a noise to distract them...?"

Nodding, she responded, "That sounds good. We could lure them away – over towards this dumpster, so we can maneuver around to the door over there."

The abandoned pick-up truck in the yard gave her an idea. Lee had once told her that back in the Crawford garage with Molly, a car alarm had gone off, bringing tons of unwanted walkers near them. It wasn't exactly the same situation here, but a horn might do the trick. It was surely loud enough to get the creatures away, but they'd need to use something to keep the horn blaring as long as it could.

Looking down at the corpse of the walker he'd had taken care of, she turned to Nick and asked, "Can you drag this guy over to the horn of the truck?"

She could practically see the gears turning in his head, but when he finally seemed to get what she was going for, he nodded. Without a word, he hooked his arms under the walker and dragged it over to the truck. Luck was once again on their side, it seemed; the door to the vehicle was unlocked, and once Nick placed the corpse atop the steering wheel, it was evident that the horn still worked.

Blaring honks echoed like an alarm, causing the walkers clawing at the door to the home to turn their heads and lumber towards the sound. They weren't able to make it over the dumpster and the barricade set up around it, however; stuck growling and swiping at the air, this made a perfect distraction, allowing them to go around to get to the door safely.

The two of them rushed up the stairs of the entrance closest to them, slowing their pace once they were inside. Two walkers were inside, nails scraping against the windows, obviously distracted by the noise outside.

Clementine _really_ missed her hatchet; the walker approaching her was much larger, around Nick's height, and she only had her wooden plank to use. With a quiet grunt of effort, she swung the weapon, hitting the creature's head. It shook off the blow and continued to stumble towards her; backing up, she nearly fell onto her backside before Nick took the walker out with a swing of his pipe.

She turned to see that he'd already taken care of the other walker, its brain smashed in and leaking all over the carpet.

"Th... thanks Nick," she commented, flashing him a smile. Playfully, she added, "You're getting better at aiming."

Shyly, the man pulled his hat down over his eyes, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks. "Nah..." he mumbled, shrugging his broad shoulders.

They continued, hopping down out of one home to the steps of the one they needed to get into. Clementine jiggled the handle, cursing under her breath as she realized it was locked. The walkers had gotten bored with the noise, and began to turn around already, growling at what they saw as two walking pieces of prey.

"Fuck! Clem, we gotta get into that building! Try somethin'!" Nick yelled, raising his pipe to keep the approaching creatures at bay.

Trying to swallow her panic, Clementine balled up her fists, took a few steps back, and attempted to kick the door down. Naturally, the first kick didn't do anything, so she continued, putting a bit more force into each swing of her leg. The locks had obviously been worn, as the door snapped open after only a few strikes. She called to Nick, who stopped striking the walkers and followed her inside the home, slamming the door behind them.

"We gotta block the door, Clem!" Nick called, pushing a large bookshelf near the door in front of the entranceway. Once it was sealed, Clementine turned to yell for Luke and Sarah, calling out their names into the dark hallway of the trailer.

Luke appeared, clutching at his machete tightly. Once he noticed who it was, he relaxed a bit, sheathing his weapon. "Man... I'm glad you guys made it. Thanks for grabbin' her, Nick." He gave a nod to his friend.

"Where's Sarah?" Clementine asked, eyes flicking about the mobile home.

The man's expression dropped. "She... fuck, we found her runnin' towards here when she got separated from Rebecca and Sarita. She's real upset, Clem, and I can't get through to her." Without another word, he turned around and led both of them to a room in the back, where the girl was curled up in a ball, her head buried in crossed arms.

Sarah seemed to be in the middle of an anxiety or panic attack; her body was shaking, her breaths coming in short, erratic bursts. Tears spilled down her cheeks, quiet mumbles leaving her trembling lips.

"She needs you, Clem-" Luke said, but Nick was the one to bend down in front of her first, his gaze focused and detached from everything else going on in the room.

"It's okay, Sarah. On my count, I want you to take a deep breath in through your nose, and I'll tell you when to release the breath through your mouth. Ready?"

Amazingly, the words connected with the anxious girl; she started to breathe in through her nose as Nick counted, releasing the breath once he told her to. Starting with two seconds, they continued this pattern for four seconds, and then six – and finally, at eight seconds, Sarah's breathing became more controlled, more relaxed. She had calmed down some, and was able to wipe at her eyes and sit back against the wall. Her complexion was still fairly pale, but she didn't look as haunted as before.

It occurred to Clementine that Nick was definitely someone who could understand Sarah's panic; he'd been prone to suicidal thoughts before, if she recalled Luke's words right. Even though it seemed like a serious hindrance in the world now, people like Nick and Sarah could learn to survive, despite their setbacks. Anxiety, depression – it all was a part of who they were, but ultimately, it didn't mean they were a lost cause.

Nick turned to her and nodded. "She's all yours, Clem." Having calmed Sarah down successfully, Clementine would be able to speak to her better. The girl crouched in front of her friend, murmuring, "Hi, Sarah..."

The older girl lifted her head, eyes horribly unfocused and fear laced through her expression. "H... hi," she whispered. "Clem, I... I'm scared. I don't... I _can't_... I want my dad..."

"I know how you feel," Clementine replied, eyes softening. "It's one of the worst feelings in the world. Ever since... the walkers, so many people I know have died. People I love. And I know what it's like to be scared."

Sarah sniffled, raising her head. "You... you do? But you're _never_ scared. You're... one of the bravest people I know. I'm... I'm not like that..."

"I wasn't always like this, Sarah," Clementine admitted, "in fact, I used to be a lot like you. When everything started, I met my friend, Lee. He tried to help me find my parents. He protected me more than anyone else in my whole life."

Loud thumps echoed behind her, and she thought she heard Nick yell out about being surrounded and Luke suggest escaping through the skylight, but she couldn't be completely sure. Her focus was on Sarah at the moment, her light brown eyes focused as if she'd lose her friend at any minute.

"He died to keep me safe. I was so scared. And you know what? I'm still scared."

Sarah nodded, understanding worming its way onto her face. "You're still here..." she mumbled.

"Because he taught me how to be strong – even when I'm scared. He wanted me to live, Sarah. And your dad protected you because he wanted you to live. He would _still_ want that."

A hand on her shoulder interrupted Clementine; she turned to see Nick glancing down at them both. "We gotta go. Lurkers got the place surrounded – only way to go is up. Do you think you can stand up, Sarah?" Worry flashed through his eyes for a moment, until he saw that she nodded, getting to her feet.

Clementine reached over and squeezed her friend's hand, watching Nick give Luke a boost up onto the top of the trailer. The shorter man got on his stomach on top of the building and leaned his hand down, providing an extra boost for escape.

Sarah went up next, Nick's height allowing her to grab Luke's hand with ease and get on top. Clementine followed, hearing a snapping sound the moment she stood up on the roof. It wasn't her weight or anything breaking the trailer, but the door to the small room they'd been in breaking down. Walkers, hungry for blood and flesh, began to stumble in, macabre claws ready to kill.

But Nick was the only one still in the room.

"_Nick_!" she yelled, panic swelling in her chest. She bent over the skylight opening as more and more creatures lumbered into the trailer from all sides, some breaking the glass of the windows. No, he couldn't...! She didn't want to look, to see her friend being devoured by walkers...!

Luke called out for him, his voice cracking as he searched for his best friend. Just when it looked like he'd been lost forever to the creatures, a large hand appeared at the top of the skylight, and a frightened, familiar face appeared. Nick heaved himself up onto the trailer, flopping onto his back and panting. After a while, he got to his feet with the rest of them, though he still looked terrified, sweat dripping down from his hair. But other than a few scratches from scrambling upwards in a panic, he was untouched.

Safe. He was _safe_.

[ Thank you. ]

[ Are you okay? ]

**[ [Hug Nick] ]**

[ … ]


	8. Chapter 8

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Hi guys! Thanks SO much for being patient! Student teaching and work have both kicked my ass – that's why I'm so slow on updates. I hope this makes up for it. Please let me know what you think, of course! Also, at the end of this chapter, there's an empty decision dialogue thingy. There's a reason for this – I want you guys to tell me which direction I should go in next. It's not a plot-changing decision, really, but it's something I wanted to include just to get the feel of the game in some aspects. Please leave a review – not just your decision – and include which option you'd choose if you were playing. I need this so I can adapt the next chapter to your decision! Thanks a bunch!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

"So Clem, y'say you found _water_? Like – like clean bottled _water_?" Luke's mouth hung open like a hungry baby bird, his eyes wide with curiosity. It was as if he was a dog, panting over the thought of a bone after being stuck with nothing for so long. The thought made Clementine think of Sam, but she pushed it out of her mind before it could make her sad.

Forcing a smile, she nodded. "Yes – Troy and I found two big jugs of water in the museum. We were able to carry them back with three arms between the both of us."

Nick cast an amused glance over at her. "That bastard's still around?" It didn't seem like anyone had much faith in Troy's survival – or at least, they didn't care all that much. Clementine couldn't say she blamed them, all things considered.

Still, she replied, "Yeah... Well, I think so. When I left him with Sarita and Rebecca, he seemed weak... I hope everything's okay." It hadn't been the smartest move, but she hadn't known what had happened to Sarah, and was in a panicked state. At least she made sure they were safe first.

"What?! Clem, y'left _him_ with them?" The color faded from Luke's face; the brush of death he'd nearly had clearly putting him more than a little on edge. "What if he turns? Oh, God, the _baby_ – or, what if he tries t'hurt them? Didja – didja even think that through? I mean, I know it was a desperate time, but I just-"

"Luke, c'mon, lay off," Nick hissed, eyes narrowed towards his friend. "Clem helped us get Sarah out of there."

That seemed to be the mental slap to the face Luke needed. The man ran a hand through his hair, stammering, "Y- you're right, Nick. Shit, I guess we're all on edge right now. Last thing we need is me goin' crazy."

"Don't worry," Clementine added in a confident tone, trying to seem more sure than she was, "They're safe. I left them with my hatchet to defend themselves if they needed to."

Luke brightened. "Nice thinkin', Clem." After she smiled back, he added, "We should probably still head on back there as quick as we can, though. Don't much like leavin' those girls with that guy."

Nick snorted. "Can't say he's the most likeable guy in the world. Think he called us _chickens_ once."

"Once?" The auburn-haired man raised a brow, a small smirk on his lips. "More like a thousand times. Y'know how many times I heard '_C'mon little chickens, let's get to peckin_' as my wake-up call? As if he couldn't think'a anythin' else to say when he took us to our jobs."

"Probably didn't," Clementine added, a humorous glint in her eyes. Troy wasn't the brightest, and they all were aware of it. Her comment earned a simultaneous snicker from both Nick and Luke, some of the previous tension dissolving before their eyes.

"Didn't he say he was a _rooster_?" Luke remarked.

"Think he did," Nick sniggered, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "Though the guy was more of a lapdog than anything else."

"Now hold on there, Nick," Luke replied, "think he was onto somethin' with all that rooster talk. He surely acted like a cock all the time."

Clementine's eyes glittered with amusement, pleased with how they seemed to be relaxing, if only a little. Who knew belittling Troy would lighten the mood this much? It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong, anyway; the man deserved much worse, and it was only for fun. Clementine was confident that neither Nick nor Luke were actually going to throw him out. She trusted them to trust _her_, after all. Despite their (justified) vendetta against Troy, they were better than him.

"Um... is that man going to stay with us?" A small squeeze to her hand and the soft words uttered next to her reminded Clementine that Sarah was with them; not that she forgot about her per se, just that she'd gotten caught up in the moment.

Still, she nodded to her friend, wondering if Sarah would have a problem with that. Troy had been all-too-eager to smack her if he was needed back at Carver's, and paraded himself around constantly as some sort of threat. Clementine couldn't blame the other girl if she was afraid of him.

"For now," she murmured back, trying not to show how much that truth annoyed her. "Until he can go on his own." She didn't really know when that would be, but it probably wouldn't come fast enough. And honestly, how long could he survive with one arm, anyway?

Sarah bit her lip, lowering her gaze in response. "I... I don't like him. He hurts people and acts like he... _wants _to do it. But... I- I trust you, Clem. I mean... you saved him for a reason, didn't you?"

Clementine really wished she had a good answer to give her friend, but all she could respond with was, "I just didn't want to be like Carver."

The older girl's eyes widened behind her glasses for a moment in shock, mouth drawn in an 'o' to show her utter disbelief. "C-Clem! Clem, you could _never_ be like him! He's so _mean_, and you're so nice... you're _nothing_ like him..."

Sarah's naivete was showing again; Clementine wouldn't call herself 'nice,' of course, but that was beside the point. She feared becoming the sort of monster that twisted a human into someone like William Carver. If she lost what was left of her humanity, she was no better than a walker, mindlessly stepping through the world and surviving only because nothing had killed her yet.

Lee wouldn't have wanted her to be like that. _She_ didn't want to be like that. So though it was constantly running through her mind, Clementine had to shove her worries aside and prove to herself that she wasn't a monster, justifying it with her treatment of Troy.

"_Carver_ sure seemed convinced," she muttered, eyes narrowing.

"Carver wouldn't'a bothered with Troy," Luke pointed out, eyebrows knitted down sympathetically. "He'd never go that far for anyone, 'specially someone he didn't much like."

She thought she heard Sarah and Nick chime in with agreement, but she was too lost in her thoughts to acknowledge it. Merely gazing at her friends, she squeezed Sarah's hand again, shook her head, and said nothing.

The rest of their trip to Parker's Run was walked in silence.

* * *

Parker's Run was more occupied once the four of them returned. Clementine's eyes lit up as she found Kenny, Mike, Bonnie, Jane, Sarita, and Rebecca all standing outside of the tent. With a smile, she hurried along towards them, relieved that they all survived the small walker herds they'd fought against back in the forest.

"You're all okay," she breathed, giving an audible sigh.

Sarita bent down to Clementine and Sarah's level, flashing a smile of her own. "I'm so glad to see you are okay." Bringing her gaze up to Luke and Nick, she added, "_All_ of you."

"...Sarah, honey, are you doing okay?" Rebecca asked, her lips drawn into a tight frown. In a way, Clementine was glad that Sarah wasn't alone in her grief; like the girl, Rebecca had lost a loved one recently, too. Not that she was happy Carlos and Alvin were dead, but as they say, misery loves company.

Sarah nodded, her eyes downcast and still puffy. A film of tears were clouding behind the frames of her glasses, but she had her hands gripping one another tightly in an obvious attempt to stay strong. Chewing on her lip, she whispered, "I... I'm not _okay_, but... I know I'm not... by myself..."

"You're right, baby, you're not alone. You never were."

Without another word, Sarah wrapped her arms around Rebecca, tightly embracing around her swollen belly as best she could. More tears freely streaked her cheeks, matching ones starting to roll down the woman's face. Quiet sobs racked through them, and everyone else seemed to back up to give them space all at once.

Kenny turned to Clementine next, warmth glowing behind his one-eyed gaze. "I'm glad you're okay, Clem. Didn't think those walkers back there could do any of us in – 'specially after what we just walked through."

"I'll say," Mike scoffed from beside him, arms crossed and head raised. "Still don't know how we managed to get out in one piece."

Jane rolled her eyes. "I _told_ you it worked. They're little more than senseless animals, after all – our smell is what makes us stand out to them, and not much else."

"That's... mighty resourceful a'ya, Jane," Bonnie commented, rubbing at her cheek and the sticky rotten blood still caked into her skin. "Can't say it's the most glamorous way t' escape, but we're all grateful y'taught us that trick."

"Spare me the gratuities," Jane replied icily, "You all helped bring down Carver, so in a way, we're even." After giving a smirk to herself, she added, "Still think I should've went through with my plan to use Troy as bait, though."

Mike snickered. "That would've been nice, I guess. Though I think he's got plenty'a karma, from the way he looked a minute ago."

Clementine looked around, noticing their newest addition wasn't standing around with the rest of the group. "Where is he?" she asked, gaze tracking around the campground as if the one-armed asshole would just magically appear with the usual scowl painted onto his features.

Sarita pointed to the tent, her voice low. "He passed out a little after you left. We just let him sleep." Amusement reflected in her eyes as she added, "Truth be told, I just didn't want him awake to bother us."

"I can see that," the girl replied with a smirk, gazing towards the tent. "I'm gonna go check, anyway."

Half-expecting a walker version of Troy to lunge at her once she opened the tent, Clementine cautiously pulled back the flap and peered inside, poking just her head in as quickly and quietly as she could, just in case. She learned long ago that it didn't hurt to be hypersensitive of the world around her, and of any danger that may sneak up behind the corner.

However, thankfully, nothing had happened. Once she drew back the opening of the tent, she noted Troy's still form exactly where she'd left him. He was half-sitting and half-laying down in an awkward-looking position, but with his arm, it was clear he was just trying to get as comfortable as he could (and probably was failing at it). His face was scrunched up in pain, sweat gleaming off his skin and hair even in the pale light. The rope tourniquet seemed to be holding up, stopping the blood from flowing out of the wound, but it was still quite worn from all the use it had had in the past few hours. Clementine didn't know how long it would hold up, honestly.

"Just as I thought." Sarita's voice suddenly next to her made Clementine jump. The woman's lips were pressed together in a thin line, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Quietly, she crouched and crawled over to the man, placing both hands on his shoulders and slowly turning him from his side onto his back.

But of course, Troy had to be difficult, even while unconscious. He let out a groan at her touch, trying to swat her away with his remaining hand. Unfazed, Sarita said, "Troy, you must lay on your back." When he continued to whine, she added, "You'll only make it worse if you flip onto your wound."

He flinched, teeth gnashing together in frustration and pain. To Clementine's surprise, Sarita gave a gentle shushing noise and murmured, "You need to help _yourself_ if you're ever going to heal."

Clementine was very impressed by her compassion; that man had stood by and watched her boyfriend be beaten, and had struck Clementine herself when she had tried to help. Troy didn't do a damn thing to stop Kenny's pain, and prolonged it all for Carver.

Just for a moment, she allowed herself to wonder why Troy was so dedicated to the man, and whether or not he believed in the same ideals or was just scared out of his mind. But after that moment, she reasoned that no reason could possibly justify his behavior.

Still, she couldn't help but feel sort of sorry for him in this state.

Noticing the girl's eyes watching her, Sarita turned to Clementine and explained, "I know, he does not deserve any of this. I just... don't have it in my heart to let anyone suffer. I think that's one of the remnants of the 'old world' that sticks with me, even now."

Clementine blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I used to be a nurse," the woman explained, lifting Troy's wrist to gauge his pulse, as if by habit alone. "Pediatrics, but still. Taking care of people is what I'm used to. And we took an oath to help anyone, no matter who they were."

With a smile, the girl replied, "You don't have to justify anything, Sarita. You're a good person. This is what good people do. You're better than Troy, and Carver, and most people I know."

"Thank you very much, Clementine." After Troy had finally given up and let himself be laid on his back, the two of them crawled out of the tent and rejoined the others. They were still discussing things and most of the scene was the same, but Sarah had parted from Rebecca and was standing closer to the tent. She gave a small wave to her friend as their gazes met.

Sarita turned back to Clementine with a gentle warmth in her eyes. "I should be taking a look at the rest of us, now, I suppose. Especially since Carlos..."

The girl closed her eyes and nodded with a frown. They would mourn him, surely, just as they mourned Pete and Walter and Alvin, but there was no time for grief to hold them back.

Curious, Clementine asked cautiously, "If you know medical... stuff, then back at Howe's... why didn't you help Carlos look at Kenny?"

A distant look crossed Sarita's deep brown eyes before she closed them, her face softening into sadness. "I'm glad he is alright. I... wasn't able to help, I know..."

Before she could continue, Sarah approached them. "U-um... Clem? I think something's going on with Rebecca..."

Biting her lip, Clementine glanced over at the woman, who was holding her swollen belly a ways off. Hunched over, Rebecca seemed weaker than she'd seemed even since they escaped Carver's, using Bonnie as a support as her expression distorted in pain.

After exchanging a glance with Sarita, the girl followed Sarah over to the rest of the group, just in time to catch Mike asking, "Are you okay? How... how does it feel?"

Rebecca shot him a glare and hissed, "It feels wet. That's how it feels!"

"What's going on?" Sarah asked, biting her lip.

"Her water broke," Bonnie replied, flashing a worried glance of her own at the rest of them.

Clementine watched as Sarah's eyes lit up in response, surprisingly knowing what that was referring to. "Th-that means the baby's coming! M-my dad... he would've been able to..." Just for a moment, she let her head fall and squeezed her eyes shut in pain, but her fists tightened after glancing at the smaller girl next to her.

Sarah probably didn't think anyone heard, but Clementine noted the words she whispered to herself, barely audible even in the silence of the clearing. "I- I have to be brave. Like Clem."

"Fuck!" Nick cried, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. "What- what do we _do_?"

"No way Rebecca can travel like this," Luke commented, shaking his head.

Jane bit her lip, her tone of voice still passive despite the uneasiness in her expression. "She's gonna make a lot of noise. They'll be able to smell her, too – we have no choice now but to ride this out and lock ourselves in."

"In? In _where_?" Bonnie asked, her head swinging around. "There ain't no place t'hide here, Jane!"

"Troy and I found water," Clementine reminded them, "in the museum down the road. It didn't look safe, though... Maybe there's another place around here that is more secure."

"Do we even have _time_ to look around?" Nick asked, worry reflecting back as he gazed at her.

Sarita stepped forward. "Everyone calm down, please. Before all of... this, I worked as a pediatrician. But I can't do it alone... do any of you have experience with babies?" When no one raised their hand aside from Kenny, she added, "Alright then, Kenny and I will take care of the delivery. The rest of you should find some things for Rebecca."

Kenny nodded. "Save some'a that water y'all found for her, definitely. She's gonna need it. And blankets. The rest'a y'all figure out where we should go."

Clementine beamed. "We found a coat for her. It's inside the tent."

"Oh, perfect. I'll grab that for her and search the perimeters for lurkers. Nick, wanna help?"

Nick merely nodded, his hand clutching at the metal pipe he still had from the trailer park.

"I'll check that building by the river," Jane announced, turning to walk towards it without waiting for approval or a response.

"Oh, uh... okay, good. Mike and Bonnie, y' might wanna check that museum and any other buildings out t'see if there's anythin' else," Luke added, "Not that we don't trust you a'course, Clem."

She gave him a doubtful look, crossing her eyes with a dry smirk. His response was merely a smile of his own.

"Where should I go?" she asked.

"That's up t'you," Bonnie replied. "A'course I'd be more than happy for y'to come with me and Mike, but... I think y'better go check out the buildin' by the river with Jane. I'm afraid she's just gonna... take off. We don't know if she'll stick around or not, and we need all the help we can get t'get that baby here safely."

Clementine thought for a moment; she knew absolutely nothing about Jane, so it may be a good idea to go investigate with her. Besides, it seemed like Bonnie and Mike weren't going to find much in a place that she'd already searched. It'd be pointless to return there. Nodding, she replied, "Yeah, okay. I'll go check it out."

The redhead let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Clem."

A quiet, shaky voice sounded from next to Clementine; Sarah was hugging one of her arms tightly, pressing it to her side as she kept her anxious gaze to the ground. "I... I sort of know how to help... with babies, I mean. My dad... he t-told me about some things..."

Sarita's smile deepened. "That would be wonderful, Sarah. I'll show you a few things, too, so you can learn even more."

That seemed to really do the trick, for Sarah's eyes once more brightened behind her rose-rimmed glasses. "Y-you would really do that? I mean – is it okay?"

"Of course it is," Sarita chuckled, "and it would help us greatly to have two people with medical knowledge, don't you think?"

With more confidence than anyone had seen her show in days, Sarah exclaimed, "Y-yes!"

Luke smiled and turned to the group. "Alright, then. Sarita, Kenny, Sarah – make sure Rebecca's safe. The rest'a y'all – we're lookin' for anythin' that can help – more blankets, more water, some disinfectant. Anythin' at all like that."

"We have some disinfectant inside the tent, for Troy. Rebecca can use that," Clementine offered.

"Oh shit, I almost forgot about him, t'be honest," Luke admitted. "Once we figure out where t'go we need to get him to move there, too. Does he seem like he can on his own?"

Clementine's eyes narrowed coolly. "We're going to have to make him, I guess." She would let him sleep for now, but if it came down to it, he had to be able to make himself move to a safer place. No one could carry him, either; if he wanted to survive, he needed to start pulling his weight.

"Alright," Luke replied, scanning his gaze over the clearing, as if he had a mental list to check off as he noted what everyone was doing. "Looks like we got us a plan. S'get on it, y'all." His face hardened as he firmly said, "This baby's gonna get t' this world as safely and comfortably as possible."

* * *

Jane was sitting by a picnic table by the time Clementine caught up with her; the woman's head was bowed and her eyes were narrowed in thought, lips pursed as if struggling to remember something – or perhaps forget.

"Are you having a staring contest with that picnic table?" Clementine asked, a bit of humor in her tone. She was exhausted, but couldn't help but put a light tone in her words out of habit.

Cocking her head back to glance at Clementine, Jane stood up, brushing herself off and retorting, "It's nothing, kid. Guess I just got lost in thought."

"I do too, sometimes," the girl admitted.

"So," Jane began, brushing off the previous topic, "the gift shop up the stairs looks like something we could use – and God knows we could use a break."

Nodding, Clementine followed Jane's gaze over to the staircase, blinking in thought. The woman silently walked towards it, only glancing behind her once to see if Clementine was following her. Once she knew she was, Jane started up the staircase with Clementine at her heels.

But right at the top of the stairs, once they both stood on the deck raised high above the ground, Jane stopped and turned around, her brown eyes fierce as she stared Clementine down like a lioness and a piece of prey. The girl couldn't help but shrink back at the intensity of the gaze.

"Look, kid," Jane murmured, "I'm going to be honest with you. I know you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't smart, but... I still gotta warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Yeah," Jane's voice took on an exasperated tone, "Bringing Troy along... it was a bad idea. Your group is cracking – I've seen it before – and he's only going to make things worse. He tends to screw things up just by being around. And... well, a lot of times, it's just better to be on your own."

Clementine gave the woman a fierce glare back, not accepting to be the baby gazelle waiting for the lioness to pounce on her. "You know, bad stuff happens to you when you're alone, too. Bad stuff happens whether you're with someone or not."

Jane's eyes narrowed. "But your odds are better if you're alone."

"If you're alone," Clementine reasoned, "there's nobody to watch your back. No one to help you if you need it."

Had Jane been alone all this time? Clementine couldn't help but wonder, but really, it wasn't something she wanted to dive further into. She knew that being alone wasn't good; there was no one to watch your back, and no one to help if you needed it. No one to offer your help to, either. Plus, running into loners frightened Clementine a little, if only because the stranger who'd lured her away from Lee had been on his own. With no one to help you out of trouble, there was also no one to help you not _cause_ trouble, either. The less people in your group, the more likely you'll start to go by your own rules – or at least, that's what Clementine justified.

Carver was the only exception to that, as he had a whole community living by his own rules and oppressed those who tried to think otherwise.

Jane pressed on. "How much help is _Troy_? Even if he _wasn't_ a complete piece of shit, he only has one arm. Not much help if you're being attacked by a walker and he needs two hands to fire a rifle. He's pretty much useless to your group."

A good point, really, but Clementine didn't want to think in those terms – 'useful' and 'useless'. It was that kind of thinking that Carver established at Howe's, and she didn't like it one bit. They were all survivors, and she felt they needed to be good people and help one another. Adults and children were the same now, boys and girls; in this world, you were either dead or alive – that was it, no other labels to tack on.

_We don't leave friends behind_, she recalled herself saying back in Crawford when the odds were turned against Ben. Troy wasn't a friend by any means, but she still wasn't going to abandon him or anyone else in the group.

_No one_ was getting left behind.

But she didn't exactly have an answer that would satisfy Jane; the woman kept prattling on, continuing about Rebecca and the baby, and how the group would be weakened. She described how _stupid_ it was to have a baby in a world like this, like Rebecca _asked_ to carry a child at the worst time possible.

"If all you're doing is criticizing our group, why are you even here?" the girl mumbled, a bit irritated at the woman's 'high and mighty' act. She didn't know any of their stories, and couldn't judge them anymore than they could judge her.

"I just... want to make sure you know what you're doing, kid. Like... that jacket..."

Clementine glanced down at her bright blue coat, giving a questioning glance to Jane. "What about it?"

"It looks warm, but a walker would bite right through that material."

Under her breath, Clementine added, "Troy mentioned that I'd really stand out in the forest."

"Maybe that's why the idiot wears camo. Guess he has to have a _few_ brain cells to make it this far. That, or Carver dressed him every morning." After they both snickered under their breaths, Jane continued, "But no, you would need a green or gray leather jacket. My sister Jaime... she always..."

The woman trailed off, her gaze traveling downward. Clementine quirked a brow, confused as to why she stopped, but didn't press it. They had more important things to do at the moment, anyway. Without another word, she turned to explore around the deck. The view was... nice enough, being up only two small flights of stairs, but the place overall looked empty. A few flags decorated the outside wall and a large cannon sat in the middle of the deck, two telescopes and a map on the outer edge. A small opening that looked sort of like a resting area was at the end of the deck, a giant locked garage-like door next to it. Instantly, Jane crouched down at the door, examining the lock.

"Check this out – this gate's still locked, which means that hopefully no one's gotten to whatever's inside there. Hope it's important enough."

The girl gave it a good look over, commenting, "It looks... secure. Rebecca could have her baby in there."

"Just what I was thinking. I'll try to pick the lock." Reaching into her back pocket, she brought out a nail file and gave a smirk. "Versatility is not overrated."

Clementine just raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she tried to use the nail file to pick the lock. After a few tries, however, it became clear that her tool would not be enough.

Cursing under her breath, Jane said, "You know, I think we should try something a little heavier. Think you could find anything around here that can bust this mechanism?"

_Not like I have a choice. _Nodding, the girl gave a quick scan of her surroundings, deciding to head straight for the only place that she hadn't really gotten a look at yet – the small nook next to the garage door. Based on what the map near the edge of it said, this deck looked like it had been used for observation. The telescopes confirmed it to be some sort of tourist attraction, anyway.

But the small opening next to the garage looked to be a rest area of some sort, with a few posters of the civil war on the wall near some benches. Nothing in that small opening looked like it could break the lock, but there was still the matter of the garbage can. With a scowl to herself, Clementine almost didn't even bother, but figured if there was _anything_ in there, it would probably be useful. Sighing, she rolled up her sleeve, took off the top of the can, and looked in.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was a large medical bag stuffed into the can, sticking out like a sore thumb among the otherwise useless trash inside. Blinking curiously, Clementine fished it out, turning to Jane to call, "Hey, I found something over here..."

Jane approached, her own inquisition teased by the mysterious bag. Like a pair of felines, the two of them stared at the new object as if it were a new, jingling toy. Without prolonging it too long, Clementine decided to just open it up and satisfy the both of them.

Her jaw visibly dropped as she zipped it open.

"Holy shit," Jane gasped quietly, her eyes widening.

Inside the bag were tons of medical items – from antibiotics to painkillers to water to wash them down. Antiseptic, bandages – everything they'd been hoping for, just sitting here on a silver platter. This was exactly what the group needed, and for whatever reason, they'd been granted it.

But Clementine wasn't stupid; this wasn't hers, and it wasn't the group's. It belonged to someone else, clearly – someone who had stuffed it into the trash can to store it for later. Could Clementine _really_ take these things from them? What if the people needed them just as much as their group did?

Her stomach twisted with a churning blend of guilt and nausea. It was just like the station wagon they'd found in the forest after the nightmare at the St. John's dairy. Everyone had voted to take the things – even _Lee_. He said that the stuff was theirs now, and that they needed it. Those who had abandoned it weren't around to claim it, so it was free for the taking.

Even back then, Clementine knew that wasn't right. She still knew it wasn't right to take things that didn't belong to her, especially things that people needed. If it was a more serious matter, could she deal with holding the deaths of others on her conscience?

Swallowing hard, she glanced at Jane, who was already picking up the bag. "What are you doing...?" she asked, already fully aware of what the woman's answer would be.

"This is a _goldmine_, Clementine. We'll put this stuff to good use – think about it. Luke's pretty messed up from Carver's, Kenny's eye's still a mess, Rebecca with the baby..." With disdain, she added, "Troy and his missing arm..."

"But it's not ours," Clementine argued. "It... wouldn't be right to take it. What if whoever left it there needs it? Or intends to come back and get it?"

"We'll just have to watch out for them, then. Look, I'm not leaving this stuff here. _We_ need it too much."

"But..."

"Clementine, look at me." After the girl did as she instructed, Jane continued, "If Rebecca or the baby dies because we didn't have this medicine... that'd be just that much worse, wouldn't it? Think about her. Think about Kenny. Think about the _baby_."

Her shoulders hunched over, Clementine gave a defeated nod. It seemed Jane was taking the guilt trip route with this – and it was working. If anything happened to anyone in their group because they didn't get the medicine... she would be even angrier with herself.

"Okay," she finally murmured, unhappily.

Jane nodded. "I'm gonna work on this lock. Go get the others up here to settle in. Once they see this medicine, I swear you'll see – they'll agree with me."

"I know," the girl hissed lowly, "they _always_ do."

* * *

"Clem! Oh, thank God, c'mere!" Luke waved across the clearing as Clementine returned from the observation deck area, finding most of the group gathered around the map in the center. She hurried forward to meet them, Luke's tone not at all setting her at ease. The look on the others' faces worried her, as well; was something wrong?

Once she reached them, she asked that same question, only to see their faces show a range of emotions – from concern to indifference. That enough was a hint to what was wrong.

So it wasn't anything with Rebecca, but their newest addition to the group.

"It's Troy, isn't it? What's wrong with him?" she asked, suddenly wondering if he had died since she'd last seen him.

Sarita, who'd been missing from the group in the clearing, poked her head out of the tent, along with Sarah. "Come see for yourself," she murmured, her lips drawn together in a tight line.

With a heavy sigh, the girl crawled into the tent, noticing instantly that something was definitely wrong. The last she'd seen Troy, he was on his back, asleep. Though he had looked pained, it was nothing compared to what he looked like now.

Face contorted in agony, Troy's eyes were half-open and his body shaking as he gasped for air. Remaining fingers scrunched into a tight fist and his legs drawn up towards his chest as he laid on his side, the man looked on the verge of death. He was mumbling something, sweat trickling down his cheeks as his cracked lips trembled out the quiet, nonsensical whispers.

His rasps didn't make much sense, but she managed to catch some of the sounds he was choking out. "C-... C-Co... Col..." Cold? Was that what he wanted to say?

Clementine was honestly speechless. The once-proud guard dog looked like he was about to be put down, and it made her feel _sick_.

"He has a high fever," Sarita explained, frowning. "I don't think he's going to make it without some sort of medicine, but... Rebecca..."

"We need some for her, too..." Sarah finished, gaze trailing over to Troy sympathetically. "I... I don't want anyone to die..."

The three of them decided to leave the tent, just in case things got worse so suddenly. None of them really had a weapon that would be quick enough to take down a walker in such close range. Rejoining the others outside, they all stood in silence for a few moments.

Now the medicine Jane and her had found would come in handy – not that Clementine was particularly happy about it. Troy had better thank her a million times over if he survived this; hell, she wouldn't take anything less than worshipping the ground she walked on.

"We found some medicine on the observation deck – in fact, we should get everyone there now. Can we move him and Rebecca up there?"

Rebecca spoke up. "Don't... don't worry about me. I'll be able to get there without being any trouble."

"I'll help," Bonnie offered, patting the woman on the back. "We'll go as quickly and safely as we can, don't worry." Rebecca flashed her a grateful glance in response.

"I... I mean, I guess I could drag Troy up there," Nick murmured, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "If no one else can, I mean."

"Hey, you said it first," Kenny replied, exchanging gazes with Mike. "New Asshole is all yours, Vanilla Ice."

Crossing his arms, Nick nodded, probably regretting his decision to speak up at all.

Still, Clementine smiled and thanked him – which earned her a grin in return. Nick should smile more often, she reflected; it was a nice look on him.

"So t' recap," Luke spoke up, breaking her thoughts, "Bonnie's helpin' Rebecca. Sarita, Kenny, and Sarah, I think you should go with 'er. Nick's bringin' Troy up, and Clem and Mike, I think y' should go with 'im, just in case. Jane's already up there, and I'll bring up the rear. Can't see any lurkers just yet, but y'never know."

When they all nodded in agreement, they began their respective duties. Bonnie, Kenny, Sarita, and Sarah began to help Rebecca up the stairs, bringing the medical supplies that were leftovers from the drug store. As they were on their way, Nick slid into the tent, bringing out a barely-conscious Troy. The sick man struggled to keep on his feet, nearly falling a few times just standing there.

"C'mon, Troy," Nick urged. "We can't stall."

The amputee just shook his head, hissing out a low, "Fu... fuck y-you..."

With a roll of his eyes, Nick grabbed as tightly as he could onto Troy and began to half-drag, half-pull the man towards the observation deck area. Mike and Clementine followed swiftly with Luke behind them, picking up anything that the others had left behind.

* * *

Once they reached the top of the deck, it looked like Jane had already gotten the garage door open. Inside was a gift shop – but Clementine didn't have time to observe. Rebecca was screaming now, the pain only growing worse as the baby got closer to being born. Once they all seemed to appear at once, Jane's eyes widened and she stepped back, allowing everyone to enter before her.

"The baby's comin'! Mike, lock the gate!" Bonnie yelled.

"On it!" Mike did as she instructed, locking the gate behind the group as they all scurried into the gift shop. Sarah, Sarita, and Kenny hurried the pregnant woman inside, Mike running in behind them. Nick and Troy followed, with Luke right behind them. Clementine hung back for a moment and approached Jane, who was holding the medicine bag.

"Need this?" Jane asked, curling her lips into a smirk.

Not wanting to admit that she'd been right, Clementine just crossed her arms. "It's not like I have a _choice_," she grumbled.

"Well, you do have a choice..." Jane began as they both crouched and opened the bag. We only have so much medicine here, Clementine. You're gonna have to make a choice – who gets what first?" Jane asked, eyes narrowed.

She knew what they all expected of her, what she _should_ do. What Lee would have done – what the right thing to do was. Rebecca was in labor and needed painkillers first and foremost so the baby could come safely into the world, and that was one of the things that kept their group _going_. The promise of new life in this hell of a world brought hope to all of them, and that occasion was something that couldn't be wasted.

But, on the other hand, Troy's fever looked on the verge of spiking. Nick had placed him a bit away from the group inside the shop, but Clementine could still see the way his face was so twisted in agony. She had to look away, back down at the medicine; he needed antibiotics if he was ever going to survive, and if she delayed, he could die.

They both needed help, and it wasn't like giving them it would take hours, but it wouldn't be a few quick seconds, either. Both Rebecca and Troy were delirious right now, and would have to be calmed or forced down to take their respective medicine.

Rebecca needed painkillers to ensure she had the strength to deliver the baby.

Troy needed antibiotics to bring his fever down and survive.

Both of them needed the medicine _now_ – but there was only one she could deliver to _first_.

_What should I do?_

[Take painkillers to Rebecca]

[Take antibiotics to Troy]


	9. Chapter 9

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Wowie, it was like 14:1. You guys really cared about Troy! Color me surprised – pleasantly so! I hope you like this chapter! As always, please leave a review and tell me what you think.

By the way, Nilani means "enchanting moon".

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

Clementine stood there, her gaze trained on the antibiotics and painkillers in her hands. Her eyes dragged back and forth between the two items, apprehension slowly creeping onto her features. This was it – she had to make a tough decision, much like Lee had always done for her. Now that he couldn't, she appreciated him doing so on her behalf so much more.

What could she _do_? Rebecca was the obvious choice, as they were friends, but Troy... he _needed_ these. How on earth could she hold two – possibly three – lives in her hands and make a decision based on who should get help first?

As she felt panic creeping up in her chest, breath hitching in her throat, the familiar, fierce snarls and growls of walkers echoed nearby, a miniature herd showing themselves at the gate Mike had locked. Their numbers kept increasing, their mutilated bodies slamming into the wire obstruction. Clawed hands poked through the holes in the gate, dead eyes glowing white like fireflies on a summer night.

Luke, Mike, and Bonnie left the gift shop to take care of the walkers; those who had guns prepared them, already beginning to fire at the walkers. Shots rang out like deadly fireworks, bullets flying into the skulls of the creatures. Nick followed, readying the rusty pipe they'd found at the playground.

"Clem! Jane! C'mon, we need y' t' help shoot 'em!" Luke cried, tossing a handgun over to Jane. As she caught it, Clementine gazed down at the medicine, closing her eyes for a brief moment before grabbing a bottle of water and running into the gift shop, not looking back.

[Take painkillers to Rebecca]

**[Take antibiotics to Troy]**

Luke's startled cry sounded behind her. "Clem!? Clem, wait, I need you!"

He didn't. There were plenty of people to give the gun to – he just felt comfortable with her because he'd known her longer than Mike and could probably trust her more than Bonnie currently. But she couldn't shoot the walkers right now; no one else would give a shit about Troy if she didn't help, and they could possibly have another walker on the inside, with easy access to Rebecca. "Give it to someone else!" she called back. "I need to do something first!"

Without hesitation, she knelt down to Troy, noting the man's shaking form _felt_ even more fragile than it _looked_. Maybe it was because he was always acting like the top dog back at Howe's, but she hadn't noticed how _scrawny_ his form really was. His severed limb wasn't bleeding anymore, but it was swollen and red. She was no expert, but it looked infected; combined with the high fever, it made sense.

In the back of her mind, Clementine wondered if he was dying anyway from the bite he'd gotten in the herd, or if he'd been bitten after and had hidden it until now. Quickly, she inspected his shirt, not noticing any teeth marks through the fabric – such was the same of his pants. However, the threat of the old bite still possibly existed, as it wasn't proven that severing the limb would save the victim's life. Clementine just had to hope that this infection wasn't from the bite and _could_ be healed.

Her hatchet was still at her side, of course, just in case she needed it. But she really couldn't put Troy down immediately; she had to try to save him first, after all the trouble she'd already went to.

Chewing on her lip apprehensively, she placed a small hand on his forehead, drawing it back a moment later after feeling how hot it was. The fever had already spiked, it seemed; again, she wasn't the best at this sort of thing, but she was the only one who _cared_ at the moment.

"Troy," she hissed lowly, nudging his shoulder. "Troy, wake up."

"Rebecca, _push_!" Clementine could hear Sarita and Kenny instructing Rebecca through labor, the pregnant woman screaming in pain. Between the cries of pain and gunshots echoing from outside, the girl had trouble focusing on her current patient. She didn't dare turn around to look, not with Troy on the verge of death.

Overwhelmed by her surroundings, she had to shove him again, repeating her words a bit louder. "Troy, come _on_! You need to _open your eyes_!" The overstimulating environment made her angrier; why wasn't he listening to her!? After he pushes, his head lolled to the side, and for a few frightening moments, Clementine feared he was dead.

However, ragged pants continue to push out of his lips, and when he still didn't respond, she hit his remaining arm. "Open them! _Now_!" she snarled, shooting him an intense, frustrated glare. Finally, his tired eyelids lifted halfway to reveal glazed-over brown irises, shifting over to glance her way.

Well. Of course he'd be obedient on the verge of death. Suppressing a sigh and calming herself down, she took out two antibiotics for him and instructed, "Good. Now, open your mouth."

He didn't have a verbal answer for her, his eyes reflecting back a weakness she was a bit uncomfortable with, but eventually did as she said, parting his cracked lips for whatever she would give him. Honestly, his life was – quite literally – in her hands now, and he seemed to realize it. Either that, or he just didn't have the strength to do anything but what she told him to.

After giving him the medicine, she placed the water bottle to his lips, tilting his head up so he could drink. This scene was more than a little familiar; there had been a dying man by the river, hadn't there? One of the men that had attacked Christa in the woods was left to die on the banks of the stream, begging for the water bottle in her backpack. She'd obliged, knowing it probably was his last request and she didn't have the heart to refuse.

She always wondered what the story behind that scene was. Had it been Carver that'd stepped in, and killed all of them? Somehow, she couldn't see Carver showing quite that much brutality from the get-go (as he'd kept a level head when they'd first met). But, as she reminded herself, she couldn't know how such a man really _thought_, either – despite him trying to claim otherwise.

Shaking her head clear, she told herself that it wasn't the time to think about that, because there was someone now that needed her assistance. Someone that _could_ be saved – hopefully.

Troy choked and sputtered at the water, the pills taking a bit of effort to swallow down, but after what felt like hours, he was able to keep them down. His chest spasmed with a particular heavy sigh, eyes still half-open and watching her like some sort of nearly-dead hawk.

"_What_?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed. Did he dare give her attitude now? When she'd just risked to get him those – what she'd _given up_ to do so?

To her surprise, he didn't have a comment to make; then again, he seemed too exhausted to truly do that. He simply nodded to her, making a quick, minute bob of his head to indicate that he'd understood what she did for him. If she was being honest, she was a little uncomfortable at his silence. Someone usually so loud not saying a word was off-putting. All the same, his fever was still present, and she wasn't finished with him. But with the antibiotics in him, there was a few moments to spare; while they began to take effect to stop the infection, she could work to bring the fever down manually. But first, she had to give Rebecca what she'd denied her before.

"I'll be right back," she whispered to Troy, crawling over to the other group in peril next to them. Rebecca had the coat from the museum over her lap, Sarita helping to deliver the baby while Kenny eased her through breathing. Sarah stood by, almost hesitant to offer input, but held what little supplies they had nonetheless.

Clementine approached her friend, handing the other girl the painkillers and an extra water bottle to her. "These are for Rebecca," she explained, casting a glance over at the soon-to-be mother. "How... how is she doing?"

Sarah's eyes fell and with a shrug, she accepted the supplies. "Um, I'm not... sure, really. Sarita is letting me hold the supplies and make sure to watch Rebecca, but... it doesn't feel like I'm _doing_ anything so far..."

"A lot of help comes after the baby is born, too," Clementine reminded her. "Sarita will need you, then. And if you want, you could help out with Troy, too."

The older girl nodded, gaze wandering over to the man's frail form, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in apprehension. "I can help with him, Clem. I mean – I'll try to help with both, if I can-"

Rebecca let out a pained scream, making Sarah flinch and turn her attention back on her.

"Sarah, we need some water!" Sarita cried, her voice drowned out in all the noise her patient was making.

"I'll be back!" As quickly as she could, Sarah ran back to the three, handing the water bottle to them. It was probably a good thing that they found those jugs of water before, as it was safe to assume both Rebecca and Troy were dehydrated, and were going to need as much of it as they could get.

Rebecca's grip on Kenny's hand as she pushed with effort, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. The gunshots continued to echo outside the gift shop, muffled yells sounding from Luke and the others. Clementine could hardly pay attention to them, though – not with everything going on where she was. Two (almost three) people on the verge of life and death... how could she focus on anything else?

Hurrying over to Troy, Clementine felt his forehead again. There didn't seem to be a change yet in terms of temperature, but his breathing had calmed down a bit. His eyes were still slitted, but open, staring into her almost hauntingly. She didn't see an abusive second-in-command to Carver any longer; all she saw was a frightened, sick man.

"Clem!" Sarah reappeared at her side, an extra water bottle in her hands. "I left some water over there, and Sarita and Kenny will let me know if they need my help again."

Suddenly grateful for her friend's aid, Clementine nodded. "We need to bring his fever down. Any ideas?"

The girl with the glasses thought for a moment. "My, um... my dad used to put a washcloth on my forehead when I would get a fever. We can use a piece of his shirt to make one."

"Good idea." That was right; cooling down certain parts of the body helped with fevers. Clementine could recall how her mother had pressed her forehead with a cold compress when she had been sick herself, and how _wonderful_ it felt.

Without thinking too much about the bittersweet memory, Clementine tore off a piece of Troy's shirt (speaking of, he'd need to bundle up with _something _soon, or else he'd freeze) and handed it over to Sarah. The girl dabbed water on it, smearing the coldness over the man's forehead. He shivered at the touch, his eyes not leaving Clementine's, but didn't try to get away. At least, he _couldn't _avoid anyone; whether or not he wanted to, she was unsure.

Awkwardly, she fidgeted as she leaned forward on her knees, checking over his body for anything else that seemed to be bothering him. The amputated area was doing just a bit better, and wasn't bleeding. Changing anything wouldn't do any good right now, so she'd have to wait until he was more conscious to help in that area.

He winced as Sarah continued to press the makeshift rag across his skin, another quiet groan leaving his lips. The girl offered what comfort she could, assuring him he'd be okay. The cloth left a path of cleanliness on his skin as she moved the cloth, collecting the dirt and blood and grease collected dotted across his face. He let out a weak whine of protest, but didn't give any other sign of fighting her.

This was... weird. If Clementine had been told that the very same girl Troy was okay with _hitting_ would be wiping his forehead as he laid on the thin line between life and death, she honestly would have _laughed_. Because while it wasn't funny, it was just so damn ironic, considering how horrible he'd been to both girls. They didn't owe him anything, and yet... they continued to help. Despite everything that had happened in the world, the two of them held onto at least a fraction of her humanity and compassion. Maybe Sarah was doing it out of natural compassion, but Clementine consciously _wanted_ to make the right choice.

_Are you proud of me, Lee?_

"Wh-...why are you... _doin_' this?" Troy's raspy voice made Clementine jump, snapping her out of her thoughts. At first, she thought she'd imagined it, but the way his eyes were a bit more open and looking straight at (rather than _through_) her made her respond.

Sarah didn't answer, so Clementine shushed him and replied, "Quiet. Don't move too much, Troy. How do you feel?"

"Like sh- shit. _Why are you doin' this_?" he repeated his previous question, blinking tiredly. His eyes trailed to Sarah, who purposefully avoided looking at him and concentrated on her work. Rebecca screamed again nearby, making him flinch. Slowly, he dragged his gaze over to her general direction, parting his cracked lips and muttering, "Wh... what the fuck is... goin' on...?"

Clementine followed his eyes to the woman, watching what was going on just a few feet away. Sarah was pressing a similar wet piece of cloth onto Rebecca's forehead, and Kenny was easing her through the process.

"That's it, c'mon, almost there Rebecca, y' can do it..." Kenny urged, patting the woman's hand as she struggled. Rebecca howled in agony, throwing her head back. It was the sudden shift in volume that made Clementine realize that the gunshots from outside had stopped.

Turning her attention to where Luke and the others had been shooting walkers, she noted the way they all yelled something at one another, running inside just before a loud crack shot through the air.

The ground rumbled underneath them; Troy's eyes widened to the size of miniature moons, his teeth clenching. "Wh- what is happenin'?" he hissed, gaze darting around wildly as the panic settled onto his features. Clementine grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze (more or less out of instinct), knowing he couldn't move and was probably very confused.

Plus, she herself didn't really know what was going on.

"I'm going to go look..." she murmured to her friend.

"O-okay." Sarah looked uncomfortable, unsure of where to really go.

"Maybe you should stay here," Clementine suggested, and after receiving a nod in response, she stood up and almost ran into Luke, Mike, Bonnie, and Nick.

"Where's Jane?!" Bonnie yelled out, the three of them crowding around the entrance and blocking Clementine's view of the outside. She could hear something crumbling and snarls echoing from further away, but couldn't _see_.

Nearly shoving Luke out of the way, she peered outside and instantly took a step back, a frightened look crossing her face. The observation deck was completely gone, in complete shambles below. Walkers were stumbling around, some skewered on the support beams of the deck. Debris was scattered below, a striking golden-orange color sticking out among the browns of the rubble.

Clementine's stomach twisted as she recognized Jane, trapped underneath what remained of the observation deck. "Jane's still down there!" she shrieked, flashing a panicked look towards Luke. He responded with one of his own, not hesitating to turn around and crouch down at the edge, Clementine following behind.

"Jane! Can y' move!?" he called, but didn't receive an answer. She was muttering something to herself, eyes focused on freeing one of her legs caught under the rubble. Her eyes darted to the walkers approaching, the gears in her mind practically visibly turning to ensure her survival.

As she fought against the debris, Luke leaped down from what remained of the deck to aid her. Clementine watched as if she could somehow offer any support (when she knew she _couldn't_, really).

"That's it, Rebecca!" Sarita's joyful cry was almost drowned out in the blood roaring in Clementine's ears; she nearly forgot all about Rebecca, or Troy, or even the baby in the midst of the collapse. She watched helplessly as Luke fired his gun into the walkers approaching, lifting a few pieces of the deck off of the trapped woman. However, she hissed in pain the moment she tried to stand up, prompting the man to lift her in his arms.

With a yelp, Jane swatted at him. "Put me the _fuck_ down!" she snapped, flailing. Luke held on, though, replying that it was either accept his help or _die_, and she shut up rather quickly. He attempted to lift her onto the deck, but the edge was too far.

"Fuck! We can't reach!" he cried out, stating the obvious as despair washed over both their faces.

A large figure appeared next to Clementine before she could share their reaction. Nick leaned down, nearly falling over the edge himself, and held out his hand like a lure looking for fish. "Luke! Luke, man, hold on!" he called, his tall stature letting him reach Jane's hand and yank her up. However, even Nick's size couldn't allow him to pull her up alone; Mike and Bonnie grabbed onto the man from behind, yanking up the woman dangling for her life above nearby walker jaws.

Nick barely let Jane up before he let go, bending down to grab onto Luke's outstretched hand. The man appeared on the edge, climbing up onto the remnants of the deck and crawling forward inside, the others following in turn.

However, right before they all rushed inside, Clementine caught Jane's gaze; she still looked rather disheveled, but was trying to play it off by brushing a hand behind her ear, tucking back what little hair she had. But Clementine could see right through her.

"Things are better when you're alone, huh?" she asked icily, quirking an eyebrow knowingly.

Jane's lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but ultimately, nothing came out. Instead, she simply brushed past the girl.

Clementine watched her limp inside and sit down. Her own gaze trailed between Troy still laying in pain and the pinkish brownish squirming thing in Sarita's hands. All at once, she connected the dots; Rebecca's cries had been replaced by those of the baby's.

The baby was _alive_.

Brightening, she approached the new mother, watching Rebecca smile towards her child. It looked sort of strange, like an alien life-form or something. Clementine wondered if that was the look of all babies just born – if _she_ had looked like that once.

None of the adults seemed worried, so she could only assume that it was normal. "It's a boy," Sarita announced, cleaning off her hands with one of the stray scraps of fabric laid around Rebecca. The mother's gaze melted gently as she held her son for the first time.

"I'm so glad to meet you," she murmured, holding him close. "I wish you could've met your dad, but I'm going to love you for the both of us. I promise." She cast an exhausted look over to the group watching her, nodding her thanks to each of them.

"He's so cute!" Sarah exclaimed, rejoining the group at the sight of the newborn.

"You think? All new babies look the same to me. Like little aliens," Mike replied, crossing his arms.

Bonnie smacked him playfully with a smirk. "They ain't _aliens_," she snorted, "but I will admit he's _really_ cute for a newborn."

"He is," Sarita agreed, giving a warm smile to the new mother. "We should all give her some space, though..."

Kenny agreed, shuffling the group away from Rebecca. "It got pretty dark out there. Think we should hit the hay – though we should watch 'er in shifts during the night, in case she needs us."

Clementine nodded. "We could use someone for Troy, too..." she added, casting a glance over at the sick man laying nearby. "I think he's more... _with it_, but someone will definitely need to keep an eye on him."

Luke nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Anyone wanna take the first watch?"

"I'll watch Rebecca first," Clementine volunteered, raising her hand slightly. "I'm not tired."

Sarita flashed her a warm smile. "That's very kind of you, Clementine. I'll relieve you after a few hours, okay?" The girl nodded in response.

With a sigh, Jane spoke up. "If you're gonna make me do it eventually, I should just get it over with first, I guess. I'll take first watch on Troy." Everyone was a bit surprised, but at the same time, it did make sense. Jane was clever; she wouldn't have to deal with the responsibility if she got through it early.

"You'll need to keep his fever down," Clementine instructed. "I left a bottle of water and a piece of fabric over there..." The man still looked fairly sick, but had settled back down into sleep. Jane's face twisted with displeasure, clearly unhappy with her current task. All the same, though, she replied with a wordless nod.

Sarah's quiet voice sounded nearby. "Um, I can... help after you," she murmured, apprehensive eyes cast downwards.

"That should last us til mornin'," Kenny concluded. "We should head on out at first light."

"Uh, _what_?" Luke practically squawked, eyebrows knitting down angrily. "Rebecca just gave _birth_, okay, and she ain't gonna be up for that yet. We should wait a few days and let her rest."

"What good is waitin' _here_ gonna do?" the older man argued. "This place ain't safe – Jane nearly died out there."

"I'm _fine_," the woman grumbled from the side, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not made of glass, grandpa."

"_Regardless_," Luke interrupted, stepping in between them before a fight broke out, "it ain't safe to travel like this. How are lurkers gonna get in up here? We'll keep the place guarded."

Kenny shook his head. "We can't afford t' wait any longer, kid, and unless you got a supply'a food hidden somewhere, we could fuckin' starve."

"Look, Rebecca needs to rest," Luke argued. "And God knows we _all_ could use some time to sit down and just collect ourselves-"

"What do _you_ think, Clem?" Nick interrupted, pursing his lips. The girl thought for a moment, though there really was no question here. With Troy, Rebecca, and the baby, there was absolutely no way she could see them traveling safely by the next morning. It was too much of a risk, especially with the new life they were now carrying with them.

Firmly, Clementine replied, "I want to stay here for a few days. It can't hurt us if we keep on guard."

Kenny's teeth gnashed together in frustration, but he clearly didn't want to start an argument with her. Either that, or he realized his choice wasn't what anyone else wanted (not that that had stopped him before).

Sarita was probably the final deal-breaker for him, however, as she stepped up and said, "Kenny, Rebecca and Troy are much too weak to move on immediately. The baby needs time to rest, as well." Once she appealed about the child, Kenny seemed to finally get it through his head. He still looked unhappy, but didn't question it and simply nodded.

* * *

Rebecca leaned against the wall, making herself comfortable as she leaned AJ down, under her coat to keep warm. She looked extremely worn and weakened, but still had a proud expression on her face all the same. The fire that had once been in her eyes had dulled to embers; however, at least it was still lit. As long as Rebecca had that fire, Clementine was sure she would make it.

The girl rested beside the new mother, closing her eyes briefly and letting out a long sigh. She could see the others curled up asleep on the other side of the 'room,' all huddled together to keep warm. Jane was sitting a ways off next to Troy, who was still sleeping.

"How's he doing?" Clementine asked, her eyes focused on the child.

"He's perfect. I was thinking Alvin Jr.," Rebecca rasped, gazing down warmly at her son. "AJ for short."

Clementine brightened. "I like that name." And she was sure Alvin would have loved it, too. "Though Alvin was convinced you were having a girl."

She snorted, shaking her head. "That man never had a knack for those types of things. The big oaf couldn't predict the weather even after he'd looked at the week's forecast."

"He'd be happy to know that AJ's healthy, though," Clementine reasoned. Alvin may not have been here to see the birth of his child, but she knew that he was watching over them. At least, she hoped as much; he was watching with Carlos, and Katjaa, and Duck, and Lee...

"Would you like to hold him?" Rebecca asked, breaking the girl's thoughts. She shifted the infant towards her, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Clementine beamed in excitement. "Could I?"

"Of course. You're family." She cradled the child and moved forward slightly, carefully placing him in Clementine's arms. Once he was settled, she leaned back again, letting out an exhausted breath.

The girl's heart pounded as she gazed down at AJ, her lips curling into a soft smile. It was so relieving to see a new life when death was all she had been seeing for so long. This child didn't know what sort of world he was born into, but he was lucky to have people who care so much for him. Clementine felt her chest swell with warmth; she vowed to protect AJ like a big sister. "You were right, Rebecca," she remarked, "we got to meet someone new."

Smiling back, the woman nodded. "That's right. My little man... and he's healthy, too."

"How are _you_ feeling?"

Rebecca shrugged. "...weak, I suppose. But relieved. Glad it's all over with."

"You should sleep," Clementine suggested. "I'll hold him."

Rebecca nodded, handing over her child without question. Clementine was sort of glad that the woman wasn't like the mother raccoon she'd once seen in her treehouse with her babies. The moment she'd tried to get close to them, she began to hiss and snap her tiny jaws. It was just nature – but Rebecca trusted Clementine enough to let her watch AJ while she slept.

The new mother laid down, covering herself in the coat they'd found in the museum. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Clementine sat in silence for a while, watching Rebecca's side rise and fall in a rhythm. AJ was curled up in Clementine's arms, and if she closed her eyes, she could hear their breaths in sync.

The rest of the group seemed just as still and quiet – save for Kenny, who was outside keeping watch on what remained of the deck. Sarah was sleeping between Nick and Luke, the three of their bodies pressed closely together for warmth. Sarita was curled up next to Mike and Bonnie, and Jane was still at her post watching Troy with her bad leg outstretched, the edge of her boot touching his shoulder. Clementine wasn't sure if she meant it, but the slightest touch seemed to keep Troy asleep. It showed that even _he_ needed some comfort, too.

Clementine curled up, drawing her knees to her chest, and tried to blank out her thoughts. It was nice to just enjoy the silence for a while. In a world where she was constantly fighting for survival, the downtime was something she didn't just enjoy, but _craved_. Anytime where she could just sit in peace and quiet was appreciated.

In fact, the silence was a _treasure_.

* * *

She hadn't realized how long she was sitting there, zoning out and making sure AJ was settled, but both Sarita and Sarah approached her sooner than she'd been expecting.

"I'm here to take over the watch, Clementine. You can sleep if you want," the Indian woman said, warmly. Clementine hadn't even realized that it had been a few hours; the time went by quicker than he thought.

"I'm not tired yet. I'll stay up for a little longer," she replied with a casual shrug.

Sarah smiled, a bit sheepishly, and replied, "I'm not tired either. I mean, I don't have to watch Troy yet – Jane told me to wait a few minutes – but I can't just go back to sleep. It's like my _mind's_ awake now."

"An active mind is a good thing, Sarah," Sarita chuckled, sitting down next to Clementine. The older girl took a seat as well, leaning her head back against the wall.

Clementine wrinkled her nose. "I hate thinking too much."

"Yeah," Sarah said with a nod, "it's the _worst_... but sometimes all you can do is think, I guess."

"We need better things to think about."

"Yeah! Like... um... how many different ice cream flavors we can name?" Sarah suggested, earning a smile from her friend in response. "Next time I'm overthinking, I'll try that!"

"That sounds like fun," Sarita commented, smiling at the two of them. "Here, I'll take him," she offered, gently picking AJ up when Clementine handed him to her. She cradled the child in her own arms, gently bouncing and shushing him quietly.

"It's amazing, you know," she murmured, her eyes glittering as she looked back to the two girls. "The miracle of life."

Clementine suddenly recalled that the woman had been a nurse before walkers showed up. She'd probably seen her fair share of babies. "Are they all this... _squishy-looking_ when they're born?"

Sarah giggled quietly, and Sarita echoed with an amused laugh of her own. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," she said, "I know Nilani was."

"Nilani?"

"Oh, pardon me." The woman leaned back, gazing down at the quiet bundle she was holding. "Nilani was my daughter."

A cold sensation suddenly pooled in Clementine's stomach, as if she'd been punched there. Hearing people talk about their lives before everything just made her feel sad; everyone had such normal lives until the walkers, and she already could tell that this story didn't have a happy ending. They _never_ did.

The two girls exchanged glances, both feeling the awkwardness of the situation come on so suddenly. "What, um... what was she like?" Sarah asked, a bit hesitant. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, though, a clear window to her interest.

Sarita closed her eyes thoughtfully, as though millions of memories were flowing through her mind. Or perhaps they were whipping by like pieces of paper in the wind, just out of her reach. With a frown, her eyes opened again and she replied, "She was a beautiful little girl... always happy and smiling. We didn't celebrate traditional holidays, but she was very interested in them." With an almost bitter smile, she added, "The other children in her class made her so jealous talking about Christmas and Halloween. I think she wanted to celebrate with them."

Clementine leaned back more against the wall, listening to Sarita. The look in her eyes when she spoke about her child... it was the same look that Kenny had when he talked about Duck and Katjaa. Nick wore it when he had reminisced about his mother. Jane with her sister, Christa about Omid... Clementine probably had the same look every time she mentioned Lee or her parents.

It was the look of lost love. A look of complete, hopeless, devastating loss and grief. Luke had said that family was the most important thing in this world, but what of those who'd already lost theirs?

"Sounds like she was very loved," she murmured.

Sarita nodded. "Oh, yes. _Very_ much. You remind me a little of her, Clementine. You, and Sarah." Flashing a smile, she continued, "Nilani was very bright; her first spelling test in first grade was a perfect score. She had trouble with the word 'bread' but had practiced so much with me that she knew it like the back of her hand." Softly, she laughed to herself, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm focusing on that tiny detail."

Clementine shrugged and grinned. "Sometimes, all you can focus on are the little memories. My dad liked to clip out the comics section of the newspaper every morning. He'd hang them on the refrigerator door for me to read. Er... try to read, anyway."

Sarah picked at her nails, biting her lip. "M...my mom used to fasten my dad's tie every morning. But she never could do it right, so he'd have to redo it once she'd already left for work."

This was the first mention of the girl's mother, and Clementine couldn't help but be curious of the type of person she was, and what exactly happened to her. But she knew better than to pry, and merely gave her friend an acknowledging smile.

Come to think of it, she remembered Katjaa mentioning that Duck was allergic to bees when he was dying from the walker bite. Things like that were so insignificant in every day life, but suddenly became precious memory pearls after the world ended.

Sarita closed her eyes. "Perhaps you both are onto something. We should hang onto those memories we have while we can, and cherish those who aren't here any longer." AJ made a cooing noise, prompting the woman to shush him gently, bouncing him slightly in her arms. "Shh, shh... little one, it's alright..."

Clementine feared for a moment that he'd break out in a loud cry, but thankfully, he calmed down and went back to sleep. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Her lips pursing, Sarita's gaze fell onto AJ. After a few moments of silence, she whispered, "Those memories of Nilani... I won't let them die. She was the light of my life." Her eyes darkened, and she dragged her eyes to stare ahead, into nothingness. "Once she was gone, it had been complete darkness for a long, long while."

There it was. Clementine had assumed as much, but she still didn't like hearing about death – though it was the norm nowadays. Fidgeting, she hesitated asking the question that burned in the deepest parts of her mind: _What happened to her? _

However, Sarita beat her to the punch, not even waiting for the question. As if she could read Clementine's mind, she sighed, "She was killed shortly after her seventh birthday." Her voice cracked, and a film of tears seemed to envelop her eyes, but she shook them away.

Sarah stared, her mouth agape like a fish, but couldn't say anything. Clementine, too, felt helpless, unaware of how to even react. It was the same with Kenny and Duck – she just didn't know what to say to a parent who'd lost their child. She knew how to help Sarah because she was a walking example of the opposite scenario herself.

Sarita continued. "We didn't live in the best neighborhood. Nilani was playing outside when she was struck by a car. She never saw it coming; my little girl's brain was severely damaged in a matter of seconds. My husband and I rushed her to the hospital, of course, but the doctors... They could not save her."

Curling her legs to her chest, Sarita murmured, "I blamed them for so long. The driver, of course, but also the doctors who could not do their jobs and save people. A bit after Nilani's death, I vowed to not be like the doctors that couldn't help her. I studied to be a nurse to help save children. I kept telling myself that I would do _better_." Her fingers clenched tightly in her free hand, a far-off look in her eyes. "I wanted to make sure no other child died because of inadequate performance. I told myself Nilani could be saved, but honestly... I don't know that for sure."

Without warning, small tears trickled down her face; Clementine nearly jumped in surprise, offering a sympathetic look. Sarah had already broken into a soft sob, as well, leaning her head on Sarita's shoulder. The woman moved her head to nudge against the girl's in return, providing mutual comfort. It all seemed to be coming out at once; maybe it was AJ making Sarita remember what it was like to hold her own child.

"Oh..." she sniffed, rubbing at her arm with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, girls. I don't think of her often, but I suppose every once in a while... I just need to get it out, or it will consume me."

Grief often worked like that. Hadn't Lee told her something like that once? That the moment after she saw her parents, it would be horrible and painful for so long, but eventually, it would subside? That it wouldn't hurt as much someday? That was partly true; it didn't hurt as much as the initial shock of seeing her parents as walkers, yes, but it did still throb dully within her, like a scar. Three scars – one for Mom, one for Dad, and one for Lee.

But the more one bottled up their sadness, the worse it became to them, and Clementine realized this, too. She allowed herself to feel the sorrow of loss, and didn't try to bottle it up – doing so was dangerous, after all.

"Sarita, that's so sad," Sarah sniffed, shaking her head. "How did you get through that? I miss my dad so much, and you... kept going after losing your _daughter_..."

"Loss is never easy," the Indian woman replied gently. "And it never truly goes away. But... to live on for those who are gone... I think that's even more important in the world now. Kenny... I know he's lost a lot, but he keeps going. We found comfort in one another, and the strength to live."

Clementine nodded, recalling the similar words she'd told Sarah in the trailer. Even now, those words stick with her. Lee would _want_ her to survive.

"I think... I think Nilani would have been happy you worked to save kids' lives," Sarah commented quietly. "It's not your fault she died." Neither of the girls could offer much comfort, but Sarah seemed to be better at it overall.

Sarita did appreciate it, though, judging by the smile on her face. "Thank you," she whispered, turning to both of them. "And Clementine, you asked me why I didn't help Kenny with Carlos before. I can tell you now."

Clementine nodded, rubbing at the back of her neck uncomfortably. Sarah was biting at her bottom lip at the mention of her dad, but shook her head to clear it moments after.

"I... wanted to, I really did," Sarita explained, "I was just struck with the sudden worry that Kenny wouldn't make it, and it would be Nilani all over again. It was one of my main problems in the nursing field; if I knew the person I would be treating, I would freeze up. My best friend's son had to be operated on by someone else because I was having anxiety. It was a mess." She shook her head, running a hand through her dark hair.

Well that explained it, the girl supposed; Sarita was scared, and despite knowing how to treat Kenny, she was too paralyzed by that fear to do anything. Clementine felt a new rush of pity towards the woman; she'd been through hardships, and no one even bothered to ask her these things. Not that people should pry, but not many in the group (save for Kenny) really spoke to Sarita. If they were all going to travel together, the least they could do was get to know each other a bit.

Clementine realized with dismay that that also applied to Troy. A sour taste splashed at the back of her throat at the thought; it seemed like she'd have to force herself to get to know him – if he'd let her.

"I'm just glad Kenny's okay. It's not your fault, Sarita – it's no one but Carver's." The man had, after all, struck Kenny down in the first place. Then again, who'd taken the radio that had gotten him in trouble? Clementine felt that familiar guilt bubbling up within her, but she banished it before it could take control of her. It was the _last_ thing she needed right now.

A yawn passed by her lips, making the girl realize just how tired she really was. Sarita took notice, urging her to go to sleep. "You'll need to be rested when we move on in a few days," she pointed out, shooing the girl off to bed like a parent would.

Clementine normally wouldn't appreciate the mother hen act, but she was too tired to fight it. With a nod, she stood up and walked over to the others, curling up. One of the last things she heard before slipping off into sleep was Sarah taking her post at Troy's side for the rest of the night.

* * *

It wasn't quite morning yet; dawn's light hadn't started to shine through the opening on the deck, and some of the birds were still asleep. Clementine's eyes still opened, however, and she was met with the sight of Nick snoring next to her. With an amused grin, she shook her head and flipped herself over, about to go back to sleep again.

However, since there was no one on the opposite side of her, she noticed she had a clear view of Sarah and Troy, who were sitting within earshot. They didn't notice her looking, though, so she curiously kept her gaze on them.

Troy was sitting up now, his face still looking slightly pale but considerably better, and gulped down a swig of the water bottle in his hand. Clearly thirsty, he nearly finished off the bottle, handing it back over to the girl.

"Thanks," he gasped, wiping at his mouth with his arm.

"N... no problem," Sarah replied, looking quite nervous. Clementine didn't blame her, though, and she didn't know why Sarah would volunteer to be one of the first to watch the irritating man. After all, he hadn't been kind at all to her, and she owed him _nothing_. None of them owed him anything.

But Sarah, like Sarita, was just a good person – that much was obvious in every little action they took.

Troy leaned against the wall, his gaze trailing down to his severed limb. "Fuck," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"What does it, um... feel like?" the girl asked quietly.

"Ever hear'a 'ghost pains'? Think I get why they're so fuckin' annoying now. It feels like it's still there... and it hurts like all hell."

Sarah swallowed hard, fidgeting with the water bottle. "I have heard of those... um, I think it's common in amputees... I'm sorry, though... How do you feel otherwise?"

"What, it ain't obvious? I'm fucking _sore_, Sarah – and weak as fuck. Jesus Christ, you really are fuckin' _stupid_."

The girl's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing into a frown. "You don't have to be so mean, you know."

"Gimme a reason why, you little _shit_."

"_Because I helped save your life_!" Sarah blurted out, not loud enough to wake anyone, but loud enough to connect with Troy. "I don't know why you're so mean, but we're trying to _help_ you. You... you wouldn't be here... if it wasn't for Clem. She's making sure you're taken care of, a-and we brought your fever down, so... s-so...!"

"_So..._?" he hissed, making a face. Clearly, he was not keen on being protested against. As someone who was used to being the bully, being the 'victim' must be a hard switch – not that Clementine pitied him one bit; it was his own fault, after all.

"So... s-_so_..." Sarah couldn't finish her thoughts, and merely shook her head, gazing down. Troy didn't challenge it, though, and merely shrugged, his glare subsiding for the time being.

Clementine felt a silence wash over the two of them, and she almost felt as though she'd begin to doze off again. However, before she could, Troy finally spoke. His words were low and as quiet as he could manage, but she still managed to hear.

"...I guess I shouldn't be yellin' at y'all, then. If you're goin' this far..." he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Don't think that makes me your fuckin' _equal_, though."

Sarah blinked, her face draining of emotion. "Is it scary?" she asked calmly, keeping her gaze on Troy.

He didn't respond with anger like Clementine thought he would. In fact, she would have bet _money_ (if money meant anything anymore) that he would've said something along the lines of 'None of your fuckin' business, you little shit!'. But instead, he simply stared back, teeth clenched tightly.

"Yeah," he simply murmured. "I... I dunno if I can do it. Survive, I mean." In a rare moment of weakness, Troy lowered his head like a defeated animal. "I keep imaginin' myself dyin' in horrible ways 'cause of _this_." He gave a long, disgusted look towards the stump left behind from the amputation, eventually pushing a long sigh past his lips, eyes shutting tightly.

Clementine wondered if the fever was making him put his ever-present guard down – if he still was sick at all. He seemed to be doing much better, though still had some physical symptoms. At least he was up and talking, though, despite his words being very... _un-Troy-like_.

Sarah swallowed hard. "Back before... all this happened, there was a dog, Toby, that lived up the street from me. He was a good dog! But I think he was, um, abused. Our neighbors got him from a shelter, and he only had three legs." Before he could interject, she flashed him a requesting glance to silence him and continued, "At first, he surprised me a little, just because it was so out of the ordinary to see a dog like that. But Toby was just like any other dog, really; he could walk, and eat, and run... It was like he didn't even notice anything was gone."

Of course, Troy didn't take that as an inspirational story meant for his benefit, like he should have. Instead, his lips curled back in a snarl, voice growing louder in anger as he growled, "Are – are you callin' me a fucking _**dog**_?!"

The girl flinched at the volume, shrinking back a bit at the fierceness of his words. "I'm – I'm s- I'm s-sor... _I'm sorry_!"

Troy froze at the apology, the rage practically _melting_ off his face. After a few moments of silence between the two, he finally let out another long sigh. His eyebrows knitting together, he lifted his hand and ran it through his hair, pulling lightly at the dirty strands of brown.

Finally, he spoke – though Clementine really had to strain her ears to hear him. It was a low whisper, very unlike him once again, and held a certain emotion she couldn't quite place.

"No," he mused with a distant look in his eyes, "Y' got it right. I _am_ just a dog."


	10. Chapter 10

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **This one is a gateway into episode 5. Meaning, starting next chapter, it'll be "episode 5". This is the end of where "episode 4" would be. Sorry for the wait! Please leave a review!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

"_Ow_!" The man hissed, flinching his body away from the girl as best he could, teeth snapping like an animal. His avoidance only made her hold on tighter to the stump that was once his arm, her eyes narrowed to try to get him to _stop wriggling_. "That _hurts_, y'know!"

"Quit moving! Or it's only going to hurt worse," she chided, spraying the open wound again with what was left of the antiseptic. Troy howled in pain, eyes screwing shut.

The brown-haired man scowled, almost pouting like a child would, before he finally settled himself long enough for her to wrap up the scabbing injury. Clementine rolled her eyes and finished adjusting the gauze to the wound, sealing it with a few tight knots. She could feel the man relax underneath her, his muscles deflating as the adrenaline to get away seemed to fade away once the constant pain had died down.

It had been two and a half days since they'd decided to rest at the gift shop, and for the most part, things had been alright. They'd lived sparingly off the small amount of food they'd found at the pharmacy, and all of them had made it through the cold nights – even Troy, Rebecca, and AJ. The three weakest members of their party were recovering slowly; at the very least, AJ was still cared for and Troy seemed to be back to his unpleasant self.

Without hesitation, Clementine placed a hand on the man's forehead, gauging the lack of intense heat as a good sign. "Your fever's gone," she commented with a small smile, "or at the very least, it's not dangerous anymore."

"_Good_. About fuckin' time," he sighed, swatting at her hand to get her away. Once she was finished changing his bandages, she sat back on her knees and gave him a quick glance-over.

Really, she knew exactly why _she_ was the one taking care of the amputee, but it didn't make it suck any less. Troy complained and whined a lot, but at least he wasn't half-dead anymore. It was bittersweet, she supposed; he was feeling better, but once more was opening up his mouth.

"Do you think you'll be alright to travel?" she asked. If he said no, she wasn't exactly sure what he'd do; he'd _have_ to move. Thankfully, though, he merely nodded, leaning back against the wall.

Looking around, Clementine checked to see if the rest of the group looked like they were fit to leave. Nick and Luke were preparing whatever items they could find in the backpacks left over from the drug store, arguing about who should carry what. Kenny and Sarita were making sure Rebecca could stand and hold onto her baby safely, while Sarah hovered nearby for support. Bonnie and Mike were both stretching, as though they'd just awoken, and Jane was off to the side (brooding, as usual).

After Rebecca was standing and steady, Sarah hurried over to Clementine and Troy. "Um, how are you feeling?" she asked the one-armed man, who simply gave her a nonchalant shrug in response.

Since the little chat between Sarah and Troy that Clementine had overheard, the two had gotten along a little better; he wasn't as hostile towards the girl, and didn't seem more than ready to hit her every time he looked at her, either. It was almost like Troy _was_ a dog, a wounded animal being taken care of by a kind soul, and feeling loyalty to that person as a result.

He was growing used to Sarah being around him, at the very least. In return, Sarah didn't seem as frightened of him, and almost didn't hesitate before asking, "Can I... check your pulse?"

Quirking a brow, Troy opened his mouth to argue, but (presumably) thought better of it and just shrugged again. "I don't care. You're gonna do what y' like anyway, ain't you?"

The girl smiled, placing her fingers onto his wrist and paused to feel and gauge the rate of Troy's heart. The silence that befell the three of them was awkward, Sarah not meeting the man's eyes and choosing to focus on her friend instead. Clementine gave her an amused look, mouthing two words that would clue Sarah in on what to think about: '_ice cream_'.

Sarah giggled, turning to her patient. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?" she asked, her grin stretching wider.

Troy blinked, almost as though he was unsure he'd heard her properly. "Does it fuckin' matter?" he finally growled. "World's turned to shit, anyway. Ain't gonna find any ice cream around."

Frowning, the girl replied, "Well, I – I guess you're right, but... if the world wasn't all... bad? Or, um, think _before_ – what _was_ your favorite?"

"Why do you wanna know?" Troy snapped, eyes narrowing into a glare. "Seriously, this shit has nothing to do with anythin', so just keep your trap shut!"

Sarah flinched, gazing down at his wrist. Her fingers tightened around it, her eyes closing. "...I think it's good to remember things from before. Just... in case you're ever sad, you can think about your favorite ice cream flavor, or maybe what you liked to do on the weekends–"

"It don't matter," the man repeated, a bit quieter. "Look, I don't like t' think about that kinda shit. Y' gotta forget about bein' 'sad' _completely_. S'the only way t' survive in this shit world."

Clementine narrowed her own gaze. "Maybe people don't _want_ to move on. Maybe we lost people we care about and don't _want_ to forget about how much we miss them."

"Sometimes y' gotta," Troy snarled. "You brats ain't the only people who lost someone, y'know." His heart wasn't in the malicious tone he usually tacked onto the end of his words, and he ended up shaking his head to clear it. "Look, I don't – let's just forget about it, alright?"

Sarah's gaze fell, but she nodded in return. "I was just trying to help... sorry. From what I know, um, your pulse seems normal. Are you having anymore ghost pains?"

Troy rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, they're still there. Been goin' in and out for the past few days."

"I think that's normal," the girl replied, biting her lip. "And we can't do anything about it."

"I know," he replied with yet another shrug. Clementine supposed with one less limb he was prone to using his shoulders to express himself more often now – either that, or he really just was passive or clueless about everything Sarah was asking.

"Hey, Clem! Can you c'mere?" Luke called out from across the gift shop, waving her over. Thankful for a distraction and knowing that Troy was in good hands with Sarah, she hurried over to the man. Nick was standing next to him, the two giving her their attention; she glanced up at them expectantly.

"What is it? Are we ready to go?"

Luke bent down to her level, meeting her eyes. This was one of her favorite things about Luke; he treated her with respect and met her gaze, rather than always looking down on her. She smiled as he gave a firm nod. "Yeah, we should be just about ready. How's Troy doin'?"

Clementine shrugged. "Fine, I guess. His fever's gone, and according to Sarah, he seems to be stable..." She knew scratch about medical treatment apart from the basics, so she was useless if he wanted any details. It didn't seem like he was that curious, though, judging by the way he once more nodded.

"I don't know how she can handle him, to be honest," he murmured, looking over at the two of them. Clementine followed his gaze, noting the way Sarah looked a bit more comfortable than before speaking to Troy. He had a look on his face that he wasn't too interested in whatever she was saying, but he also didn't look hostile, either.

Things between them were odd, but so long as he wasn't hurting her, Clementine didn't care. At least he wasn't threatening to hit her every few seconds, nor _bragging_ about how hard he would do it.

"Maybe she sees him as an injured animal," she suggested with a shrug. "Kind of like... a bird with a broken wing."

Nick nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. Sarah's the type to pick up something like that if she saw it was hurt, I think – even an asshole bird."

"Like a rooster," Luke chimed in, giving a chuckle.

Brightening, the girl smirked. "He'll be good to go soon, but we need to give him something better to wear than a t-shirt. Oh, and a weapon would be good, too." She didn't like keeping watch on him; Troy knew his way around a gun, that much was certain, and if he could just use it to protect himself, it wouldn't be a problem.

Nick looked apprehensive. "I'm just... a little hesitant. What if he shoots one of us?"

"We can easily overpower him, and he knows it," Clementine pointed out. "I don't think he'll try anything." She was honestly surprised by her own words; since when did she have so much faith in _Troy_? Who _was_ to say he wouldn't shoot someone the moment they gave him a spare pistol? Somehow, it just didn't feel possible now, not with how much she went through just to keep the asshole alive.

He wouldn't hurt his saviors, would he?

Nerves gnawed at her insides; what was the right option?

**[ Give Troy a gun ]**

[ Don't give Troy a gun ]

"We have to," she pursued, shaking her head in dismissal. "Without a weapon and with only one arm, we'd be sending Troy to death."

Luke pursed his lips in thought. "Clem's got a point. He can't really defend himself in his condition without somethin'."

Nick blinked. "Fine, fine, just – _be careful_."

Clementine had to smile; since when was _Nick_, of all people, concerned about being careful? The man who'd nearly shot Clementine herself the moment they met, for no reason other than an itchy trigger finger? It was a sign that he was changing, at least; he seemed more cautious nowadays, which wasn't a bad thing.

"Okay, do we have any guns to spare?" she asked, looking around at the group. It looked like Kenny, Mike, Bonnie, Jane, Luke, and Nick had guns at their sides – but were there any extras?

Fortunately, Luke nodded. "We took what we could from Howe's. Think there's an extra revolver – hey! Mike!" He called over, turning his head to look at the man with the scarred ear. Mike was standing against the wall, waiting for the group to be ready to move on; he approached them once Luke waved him over.

"What's up?"

Clementine requested the aforementioned revolver, crossing her arms when his eyebrows raised in almost... _surprise_.

"Uh..." Mike stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, "What's a _kid_ gonna do with two guns?"

"I'm not just a kid," Clementine snapped, narrowing her eyes. "And it's for _Troy_."

Understanding wormed its way into the man's features, but a scowl still settled on his lips all the same. "Yeah, not so sure Troy deserves anything I'd give 'em, but... I guess you got a point and all. Guy's gonna be lurker chow if we don't give him _something_..."

"I can hear y'all, y'know!" Troy hissed from a ways off, flinching as he attempted to get into a kneeling position. Clementine raised a brow as she watched him struggle to do it, waving off Sarah as she attempted to help and getting his trembling knees on the ground. Once he made it that far, he went further, standing up shakily before using the wall behind him as a slight support. He did seem to be doing better, though – the rest had been worth it for that.

Mike snorted and called back, "So? You gonna dispute it? You won't get a gun if you put up a good argument."

Troy's jaw clenched tightly in frustration, but he ultimately said nothing.

"Seems he got the point," Luke commented with a shrug.

"_Anyway_," the girl continued sternly, reaching out her hand. "The gun?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Mike sighed, clearly reluctant, but reached to his side and unhooked the small revolver, handing it over to the child. "It's got enough bullets to last a little while. I hope he knows we can't waste 'em, though."

Clementine shrugged as she gazed over the silver weapon. "Hopefully." She didn't doubt he knew the value of a weapon, knowing he always had one to tote around back at Howe's. With a nod to the three, she made her way back to Sarah and Troy, pausing before handing the gun over to Troy.

"I'm going to give this to you, but only if you promise to use it for killing walkers only," she began carefully, casting an icy stare his way. "Please don't make me regret this, Troy."

The man sighed, shaking his head and pushing himself forward off the wall, standing as straight as he could and meeting her gaze. His jaw once more clenched tightly, a habit she'd noticed him doing often the more she was around him. With a firm nod, he replied, "I know. I ain't gonna. Believe it or not, I don't got a reason to turn on y'all. If anythin', I can... sorta see why y'all would wanna turn on me." With a scowl, he added quickly, "Don't mean I ain't keepin' my eyes on you!"

With a roll of her eyes, Clementine replied, "Same here." He was right – they had no reason to trust him. At least he was aware of it, though; that alone made her feel slightly better about her decision to give him a weapon. If nothing else, she could say Troy knew his place.

"Not a bad gun, though," he replied thoughtfully, inspecting the revolver. "Colt Python, .357 Magnum. Fires nice, handles well... Bill had one'a these."

Pursing her lips, Clementine snapped, "We probably got it from him, then." She didn't really know the origin of the gun, but Troy's admiration for the gun – and his former leader – was enough to make her question what he was ultimately going to do with the firearm. "After Kenny killed him."

Troy's brow furrowed, an annoyed look crossing his features, but he merely placed the gun on his belt.

Sarah perked up suddenly, clearly oblivious to anything related to weapons. "Oh! I almost forgot! Be right back." Sarah turned around, darting deeper into the gift shop and rummaging through something behind the checkout counter. Troy and Clementine exchanged a glance; she seemed so determined to find whatever it was that they couldn't help but be curious.

After a few moments, the girl returned, a dark blue hoodie in her hands. "This looks like it's your size... I'm glad I found it." Handing it over to Troy, she smiled as he reached out to grab it, a sheepish look crossing her face. "Sorry about... what's on it."

Troy got a good look at the jacket, his eyes growing wider as he noticed the bright white block letters spelling out "PARKER'S RUN," splotches of neon colors dotted over the letters in decoration. Clementine stifled a chuckle; she'd seen such souvenirs before – they reminded her of those sold in boardwalk shops at the beach. Apparently, the civil war gift shop also liked to sell them, making her believe they were popular with tourists. She'd never wear one herself, though.

Reminded of how he'd mocked her bright blue jacket, she absentmindedly commented, "I'm not saying you're a dumbass for wearing that color, but... you're a dumbass." A smirk crossed her lips at the sour look he flashed her in response.

"Can it," he snarled, heaving a heavy sigh. "At least... it looks warm..."

"I think it looks cool!" Sarah exclaimed. "I wish I would've found one in my size."

Scoffing, Troy slipped the jacket on over his t-shirt as best he could, wincing as the fabric brushed against his wound. His eyes trailed over to the sleeve hanging limply at his side, a despondent look on his face. His feelings were quite clear, a sadness crossing his features rather quickly at the thought of wearing a jacket without a limb to place in a sleeve.

Without a word, Clementine reached forward and rolled up the sleeve, knotting and bunching it just below where his wound began. Her eyes met his, and he merely nodded his thanks in silence.

"So now that you're equipped," she finally spoke after a few more moments of quiet, "we can get going."

Troy nodded. "Yeah, fine. This is gonna suck..."

"Don't even start," she hissed back to him with a half-hearted glare. "You're lucky to be alive."

To her surprise, he nodded, acknowledging that he couldn't have gotten to this point without her. With a quick glance at his empty sleeve, he simply murmured, "I know."

* * *

The group trudged on slowly, making their way through the snow like molasses. Clementine hugged herself, the bright blue jacket almost blinding in the white snow as she forced her frozen legs to move. She could clearly see her breath puffing out in air in front of her, the teeth chattering being one of the only sounds as they moved along.

Winter was silent – a beautifully cruel season. Instead of snowmen and snow angels, the eleven-year-old had to focus on staying alive by securing warmth and food. Gone were the days of simple snowball fights, where a mug of hot cocoa and a heated blanket would fix any degree of shivers.

Not that she ever did those things _herself_, being from the South, where it was always warm enough to keep the snow away. But from the Christmas specials she watched on television, those seemed like fun activities to do in the snow.

She let out an extra-long sigh, the breath practically freezing instantly in the cold air. Hugging herself tighter, Clementine glanced at the rest of her group, who was in similar stances.

"F-f-f-_fuck_, it's cold..." Troy shivered next to her, doing his best to cover himself with his remaining arm. Sarah was on her other side, nodding in agreement with her head lowered. Behind them, Rebecca staggered with Sarita and Bonnie, looking weaker and weaker each step she took.

Nick, Luke, Kenny, Mike, and Jane were spread out ahead; Nick, who was barely in front of Clementine, gazed back at Rebecca, shooting a glare towards Troy. "Stop complaining. It's not gonna change how cold we _all_ feel."

Troy narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Listen, asshole, I just got over a -"

"Yeah, yeah, a fever. I know. I carried your sorry ass up to the observation deck, remember?"

"...what?" The amputee's eyes widened for a moment, processing the question. Clearly, he didn't recall such an event; avoiding Nick's gaze, he snapped in reply, "Well, no one fuckin' asked you to."

Nick was just about to respond when Sarita called ahead, a worried tone to her voice. "Kenny! Kenny, we need to slow down."

The man shook his head. "Can't do that, Sarita! We gotta get somewhere safe before sundown. Gotta get to Wellington..."

"But Kenny..." Sarita chewed on her lip, glancing at Rebecca, who was clinging to her tightly with one hand and holding AJ in her other. Her frame was barely supported by Bonnie, who was trying her best to help.

The new mother shook her head, her fingers tightening around Sarita's jacket. "No, I... I can keep moving. You don't have to stop."

"No, Rebecca, you need to rest," Luke chimed in, shaking his head. "Kenny, I said we gotta stop!"

"I said we _can't_, goddammit!" Kenny hissed, snapping his head back with a glare. His raised voice woke up AJ, who started to cry at the loud volume. The man's face instantly softened, and he slowed his pace. "...alright, _fine_ – but not for too long. How 'bout here?"

All at the same time, everyone slowed down, coming across an abandoned campsite. All the equipment was buried in snow, making it barely useable for even sitting on. Rebecca didn't seem to mind, though; she stopped with the rest of the group, sitting herself down on a snow-covered chair.

Sarita crouched near her, her tone growing more anxious. "Just focus on AJ, Rebecca. It will be okay. You'll be alright..."

Clementine approached the weak woman, glancing over her weak framed. Her hands were trembling, clutched tightly around the bundled baby in her lap. With her body hunched over and her head drooping, she looked as though she was... dying.

Her eyes lifted to meet Clementine's, and the girl's heart nearly stopped. The fire was gone, no trace of a spark in her brown irises.

_No. _She really _was_ dying.

Clementine's blood ran cold as she gazed at Sarita, who had the same grief-stricken look, and bent down to Rebecca's level, murmuring, "Rebecca...? Rebecca, how are you doing? Can you hear me?"

The woman barely noticed her at first, the weakness from birth and physical exhaustion proving too much for her. Finally, her tired eyes did meet the girl's, the smallest of smiles cracking on her lips. "He's so... handsome..." Her frozen fingers curled around the baby more, a shuddering breath leaving her.

"He is," Clementine replied, her voice cracking. "He's very lucky he's going to be taken care of by so many good people."

Rebecca's head leaned down even more, her arms physically wrapping around AJ protectively. "I love you... my little man... Please be safe."

Clementine's eyes went dull as she watched the woman take her last breaths, bringing up her gun. The barrel was pointed towards the mother, but she showed no fear of dying; instead, a desperate plea was evident quite clearly in the browns of her eyes.

"Wh- what are you doing?!" Sarah cried suddenly, grabbing onto her friend's arm. "Why are you going to shoot Rebecca!?"

"I have to, Sarah," Clementine muttered in response.

Luke placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "She's dyin', Sarah. And you know what happens..."

Or maybe she didn't. Maybe Carlos sheltered her so much that she didn't know that bite or no bite, everyone was infected and would turn when they die. That even Sarah herself would become a walker if no one was around to put her down. Perhaps, Clementine reasoned, that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. So long as Sarah knew how to fight walkers and know to put people down when they were bit, the other parts weren't necessary to know...

No, that was selfish of her; what if Sarah was with someone, alone, and she went to sleep feeling safe but the other died in their sleep and attacked her? What if she came across someone who she thought was just sleeping but really they'd already died? All sorts of scenarios flew through the girl's mind.

Now she could see some of Carlos's plight. But Clementine owed it to her friend to be truthful, and not hide anything from her. "Even if you're not bit, you still turn after you die," she whispered, turning her attention back to Rebecca. Before she did, however, it was hard to miss the horrified look in Sarah's eyes.

Rebecca merely focused on AJ, the child blissfully unaware in slumber. Her breath began to slow down, but her eyes didn't yet close.

Clementine nearly pulled the trigger there, but a loud shouting stopped her. Raising her gaze in the direction of the noise, she heard a faint squeaking sound, along with a figure limping a while away from them.

"Hello!" the person cried, waving their arms.

"...What is this?" Mike asked.

"No idea," Bonnie replied, patting the gun at her side. "But we can't be too careful..."

"Damn right we can't," Troy snapped, stepping forward and yelling, "The _hell_ do you want!?"

Jane leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder. "What are you doing, you _idiot_?!"

Troy shot a glare her way and snarled, "We don't know them! They could be anyone!"

"So give 'em an incentive to shoot us?!" Nick hissed. "Just _keep quiet_ for once, you stupid rooster!"

"What the _fuck_ did you call me -" The amputee looked as though he'd rip Nick's skin off, but the figure yelled out a greeting once more, its staggering form revealing a tall teenage boy with a leg brace and glasses. Clementine had honestly never seen him before, but he seemed to know them.

She glanced around, receiving shrugs and blank stares from the rest of the group.

"Uh... hello there," Luke called back, lifting an arm awkwardly in a wave. "What, uh... what can we help you with?"

"Greetings," the boy replied, creaking to a stop in front of them. His voice had a heavy accent to it; was that... Russian? Clementine couldn't be sure. "You are those who stayed at the Parker's Run, are you not?"

Kenny stepped up, eyes narrowed. "Yeah, what of it? Who's fuckin' askin'?"

"I am Arvo. And... er... you are...?"

Clementine stood up. "I'm Clementine," she greeted, trying to make this situation at least a little less awkward. It didn't really help, though, but at least Sarah joined in and introduced herself as well.

"Oh, I am so glad to know... ahem... so glad that your group is... _Теперь здорова_, yes?"

"Uh, can we get that in motherfuckin' _English_?" Kenny asked, receiving a glare from Sarita.

Arvo's eyes narrowed and his smile suddenly vanished, a deep frown taking its place. "Healthy now. So I would like to say... you give us your things now. Place on the ground, and no one will get hurt." He held up a gun, his hand trembling.

Troy snorted. "You think you're gonna hurt anyone with that revolver? You can't even fuckin' grip it."

"I will – I don't want to shoot! Do not – do not make me shoot! Сволочи!"

"Whoa, whoa..." Mike began, holding up his hands. "Just take it easy there, kid. Maybe we could work out a trade of some kind..."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "We're not giving anything to the likes of you. You're awfully brave to try to rob us alone."

"Rob? Rob _you_?!" Arvo cried, his gaze darting to the forest. "Теперь здорова!"

Before Clementine could even blink, a few other strangers came out into the open, two standing behind Arvo with guns in their hands. Others appeared in the forest, weapons pointed towards the group.

"Wh- who are these people?!" Bonnie cried.

"And what the _fuck_ is goin' on?" Troy squawked. The rest of the Russians – at least, she assumed they were all as such – cackled, their dark laughs echoing throughout the quiet white landscape. Arvo's eyes glittered with resentment, still holding his gun up.

"Wh- why are they laughing?" Clementine asked, trying to get in front of Sarah as best she could. The girl was clinging to the material of her jacket, panicked breaths leaving her rapidly.

"They think it is funny... that you are just a _маленькая девочка_, er... little girl. Do you steal all supplies that you find?" Arvo asked, his voice cold.

Kenny looked down at her, bewildered. "You stole from these guys, Clem...?"

Clementine shook her head. "What? No!" What could they be talking about? Her eyes darted around, looking at each member of the group as if they had the answer.

And suddenly, it dawned on her the moment she looked at Jane. The supplies they'd found – the medicine that had saved Troy's life – had belonged to this group. And despite her not originally wanting to, she had stolen them. She'd taken from these people just as the Motor Inn group took from the stranger's car.

Still, she tried to plead her case; it _had_ to be different! "That stuff... it had been stuffed into a garbage can! And – and we needed it!"

"Нет!" Arvo snapped back. "You are not special! You do not get to take things without _последствий_ – without consequence!"

"Арво, это воры? Они украли запасы?" One of them called out.

"Да, это они. Они забрали лекарства," Arvo answered.

"Что ты делаешь? Положил оружие!" The girl next to Arvo, who seemed pale, hesitated on bringing her gun out. "Она – маленькая девочка!"

"Заберем все, что у них есть!"

"Посмотрим, как им это понравится!"

The yells in Russian were overwhelming; Clementine felt the tension crawl through the air like spiders through a web. She picked at the hem of her coat, biting her lip.

"We didn't know those were your supplies," Sarita explained, her hands raised in defense. "Please, we have to get the baby and his mother out of the cold."

"You have a baby with you..?" Arvo practically gasped, his eyes widening behind his glasses. Turning to his cohorts, he said, "Стоп! Не стреляйте!"

"I- I'm scared, Clem!" Sarah cried. "What are they saying!? Why are they pointing guns at us?!"

"Look, we don't want any trouble!" Mike yelled, retracting his gun nonetheless. Troy reached for his gun, as did Luke, Nick, Bonnie, and Kenny. Sarah cowered behind Sarita, who was doing her best to protect the girl.

"_Тогда бы вы не украли наших лекарств!"_

Clementine retracted her weapon as well, just in case, but not before easing in front of Rebecca. She hadn't gotten the best look at the dying woman until now; she had become paler, a horrible purple color to her skin. Her eyes, now closed, reopened with an almost feral glow to them.

Why did this happen!? Was it really because of the cold, or was this the result of not being given painkillers in time? Because Clementine had chosen the life of a man who didn't deserve it over a laboring mother?

"_Fuckin' back up now if you want out of this!"_

"_Everyone, put your guns down! Please!" _

"_Сволочи!"_

"_I- I can't breathe! S-Sarita, I can't-"_

Her sadness was eaten by panic when she noticed the reanimated woman begin to growl and swing her arms, not yet noticing the little snack sitting on her lap.

**[ Shoot Rebecca ]**

[ Call for help ]

AJ was in trouble! Clementine didn't hesitate; she pointed the gun at Rebecca and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, though, that was a signal to the others to begin shooting, and the world disappeared in a blur of gunshots and screams.


	11. Chapter 11

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **I actually had to cut this chapter into two parts, because too much was happening to keep it all in one. Plus, this way I get a bit more time to write a proper scene for the setting I will include in the next chapter. I already have some written, too, so that may mean it'll get written faster!

To User, who commented about Troy and Sarah's relationship versus his with Clementine – you're correct, that is what I was going for. Troy will see Sarah as like someone from his past (not telling who!) while Clementine's more of an ally. A friend, maybe.

Also, this is absolutely ridiculous that I even have to mention this. Like. Seriously, I'm quite annoyed I even have to say anything, but now I'm worried about it because of a review I received. So, well, here it is: _There were not, are not, and never will be any adult/child relationships in this work, nor anything I create at all._

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

It was like time had frozen still. Clementine could hear every breath she took, the roaring of the shots oddly muffled as she hit the ground for cover. The world was white, the tundra environment biting at the exposed skin; what she wouldn't give for some gloves right about now.

But frostbite was the least of her worries; screams sounded from all around, clogging her senses and rendering her almost helpless to the situation. She tried to get a good look at what was happening, but it was so cold and loud – and yet _quiet_ at the same time.

Her hands brushed against the dirt and snow as she crawled below the bullets, vision blurry and disoriented. She recognized Arvo a few feet away, attempting to get down and dodge the attacks. The girl that had been standing next to him covered her head, but yelled out as a shot pierced her abdomen, collapsing to the ground.

Arvo screeched in surprise, yelling out a muffled cry in Russian, and leaned over her. "Natasha! Natasha, Natasha, Natasha нет!" Before his eyes – and Clementine could practically see the despair sinking in – the girl began to convulse, her head lolling from side to side as if she was having a seizure. Arvo panicked, and once she finally lay still, he began to perform CPR on her, his hands working at a frenzied pace to jumpstart her heart.

Mike staggered in front of Clementine and the scene before her, holding his shoulder. "Shit. Shit, I'm hit!" he screamed, his voice echoing in her roaring eardrums.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings, keeping her head as low as possible. Luke was hidden behind a chunk of broken stone wall, shooting in one direction. Jane and Bonnie were nearby, following Luke's direction of fire and calling out to Mike, respectively. One of the Russians was on the ground, scrambling backwards as he returned fire. Kenny was behind a tree, hissing some insults as he attempted to gun down some of the other party, two Russians aiming in his direction.

Sarita, Sarah, Nick, and Troy were nowhere to be found.

A baby's cry struck out over all the yelling and gunfire; Clementine's eyes widened once she spotted AJ, still swaddled tightly, wailing on the ground. Rebecca's corpse sat a few feet away, having dropped him onto the ground.

Both parties were still shouting, nothing but pure anger and hatred in the tones. She couldn't make out what anyone was saying anymore, and it didn't matter. She _had_ to get to AJ.

Her fingers felt numb as she dragged herself through the snow, keeping her head low and looking for somewhere to hide once she grabbed the baby.

However, before she could, she felt someone grab her leg from behind. Crying out in surprise, she thrashed out of instinct, trying to get loose. "Let me go!" she hissed, scrabbling in the icy dirt.

"Calm down, you little-! It's me, Troy!" The voice sounded familiar, though muffled by gunshots. She lifted her head to see Troy crouching over her, an irritated expression etched onto his features. His lip was cut, mud caked in his hair, but his eyes were wide and alert. "I'm tryin' to fuckin' help you!"

"AJ!" she cried as he continued to haul her away, only a short distance of a few feet. They ended up behind the cover of another stone wall, this one across from where she'd seen Luke, Bonnie, and Jane a few moments ago.

Angrily, she turned to Troy, who didn't seem to notice what he'd done wrong. She smacked his lone arm, hissing, "Why did you do that? What about _AJ_!?"

He blinked, his face scrunching up in confusion. "Who?"

With a disgusted look, she was about to turn around and crawl out in the line of fire again to grab the baby, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Glancing in its direction, she found Nick crouched near her, his other hand tightly clamped around a pistol.

Now that she had gained at least some of her bearings, she found both Troy and Nick were using this partition as cover, raising their heads for a few seconds at most to shoot across the clearing and then duck again. However, after a few moments it became clear they weren't alone in their cover; Sarita was nearby, keeping Sarah's head down and away from any stray bullets.

Clementine raised her head slightly to look over the wall, just in time to see Luke attempt to get the baby in the middle. A particularly loud shot rang out shortly after, echoing across the small makeshift battlefield. The young man stumbled as a bullet went through his leg, collapsing just behind their cover beside Sarah and Sarita.

Nick turned his attention away from the enemy to crawl over towards his wounded friend. "Are you okay, man?!"

Luke nodded towards Nick, stammering out, "I- I'm fine! I'm fine. Aaaargh!" He latched onto his leg, eyes bugging with panic.

Sarita placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let me see..."

Clementine got a closer look, too; she could see blood trickling down his lower pant leg. The fabric slowly started to dye red, a painful reminder of the small scuffle that they'd gotten themselves into. Luke's breath came in pained sighs as his fingers clenched his leg, trying in vain to stop both the pain and bleeding.

"Are you sure you're okay...?" she asked, swallowing hard. She was no doctor, but thankfully, Sarita was able to examine him quickly enough.

"I think? Fuck, I don't know. I don't know if it went through or what, but just – fuck." Luke wasn't making much sense, but she couldn't blame him; it looked painful.

"He'll be alright. The bullet went through," she announced, tearing off a piece of her sleeve and wrapping it tightly around his thigh. He gave a muffled howl, biting down on his lip until Clementine noticed trickles of blood seeping down his chin. She grimaced, turning away from the sight to glance back over the wall.

He hadn't managed to get to AJ; she could see the child still out in the open. She whispered his name in a panic, catching the attention of Sarita. Once she had knotted the fabric around Luke's wound, she followed Clementine's gaze over to the helpless baby.

Sarita looked back in Sarah's direction, her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. Glancing back to Clementine and Luke, she said, "I have to go get him."

"Sarita, it's – it's _suicide_," Nick protested.

Luke nodded in agreement. "Nick's right. They know AJ's out there now. They'll wait for you to try and get him. Like he's some kinda _bait_."

She didn't say anything in response, but the look on her face told them all that she knew _exactly_ what would happen.

Clementine was about to respond – to plead Sarita not to go, to try to find a different way, or _something _that might help – but Sarah's head snapped up before she could, a fearful expression settling onto her face.

"You're... you're going out there...?" she whispered in disbelief, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

Nodding, Sarita replied, "AJ is alone. I have to at least try to get him. I'll never be able to live with myself if something happens and I did nothing."

"B-but... but we need... we _need_ you here!" Sarah protested, flinching as another gunshot sounded from close by. "Who's going to be the doctor?!"

"I've taught you plenty," the woman replied somberly, "and if I don't come back, I know you can go on without me. You _can_ save lives."

"N-no! No, I- I can't... not without you!" she cried, latching onto the woman's jacket. "Please! Please don't leave me like – like my dad...!"

Frowning, Sarita pulled the girl into a quick hug, shaking her head as she held the girl like a mother would. "I have to, Sarah. Don't you understand?" she whispered, closing her eyes briefly. "I can't let another child die."

"No! No, no, no, _no_! _Please_!" Sarah wailed, clinging tighter and shaking her head in anguish.

Sarita eventually let go, leaving Sarah trying to hold on in vain. "I'm sorry," she sighed, and said nothing more; turning to Clementine, Nick, and Luke, she gave a firm nod. "Please tell Kenny I'm sorry, too. This is just... something I have to do."

Clementine's family wasn't overly religious, but the three of them did go to church every Sunday; she recalled hearing about 'martyrs' in the scriptures, and asked what they were. Her mother had simply put that martyrs were people who bravely died for a cause, who sacrificed themselves for something they believed in.

She didn't know why this was all suddenly coming back to her, but Sarita was most definitely a martyr. The woman prepared herself for death with such courage it was a complete tragedy that she had to die at all.

Clementine watched her take a deep breath, peeking over the wall for a gap in the shootings to make a run for it. Swallowing hard, the girl exchanged a glance with Nick, Luke, and now Troy, and kept her sights trained on their martyr from behind the wall.

Sarita darted from cover, making a sprint towards AJ. She kept her gaze focused ahead of her, not even flinching at the gunfire and yells sounding all around her.

"NO!" Sarah cried out, getting to her feet and attempting to go after her.

"What the – keep your fuckin' head down!" Troy snarled, grabbing the girl's arm and yanking her down. He kept her pinned under him, not phased by her wriggling and crying.

Once she knew Sarah was safe, Clementine focused once more on Sarita. Kenny had noticed her moving, and cried out her name in a panic, signaling the Russians to set off their guns. The shot almost covered Kenny's screams, but Clementine could hear the horrified gasp he let out as he watched bullets fly towards his girlfriend.

One shot pierced her back, causing the woman to topple over onto her knees with a hiss of pain. With what little strength she had left, Sarita gently covered AJ, tucking the child into her chest but making sure he was still able to breathe. Just as she did so, one of the Russians approached her on the ground, mercilessly putting a bullet into the side of her head.

"You _**son-of-a-bitch**_!" Kenny bellowed, firing into the head of the enemy standing over Sarita's still body. "Sarita! Sarita, are you alright?!" He almost took off from his point of cover, but was distracted by a few more bullets aimed in his direction.

Turning to the nearest ally, he hissed, "Aim your guns at the bastards in the forest! I gotta get to her!"

"Kenny, don't be _stupid_!" Jane cried. "You're gonna get yourself killed!" With a groan of annoyance, she fired a shot towards another Russian peeking out from behind a tree, finally managing to snipe him in the head.

The battlefield looked emptier now, only one set of shots seemingly targeting any of their group. Some bullets grazed Sarita's corpse in the center; Clementine was just glad she was there – if she hadn't been, AJ would have possibly been hit. Speaking of, the baby was still crying, proving he was still at least _alive_.

"Хуй тебе!" One of the last Russians (and the only one being aggressive) yelled out, not budging from his hiding spot.

Obviously fed up with the gunfight and impatient to get to Sarita, Kenny shot in the Russian's direction long enough to sprint towards Arvo, grabbing and pressing the barrel of his gun to the teen's temple.

"You get out here, or I put a _bullet_ in this kid's head!" Kenny yelled.

"Положи оружие на землю!"

Clementine stared in horror as the man held his hostage close, his eye glaring towards his enemy's hiding spot. She could see it in his gaze; he was completely serious. He would kill Arvo without hesitation if his ally didn't surrender. "Kenny! What are you doing?!" she cried.

"I'm endin' this." He barely looked her way for a second and snarled, "Get out here! Right fuckin' now!"

"Отпустите! Пожалуйста!" Arvo cried out as he wriggled to get free and back to the girl sprawled on the ground. She didn't even seem to be breathing now; Clementine flashed a worried gaze towards Arvo and her, unsure what to do.

"Stop squirmin', dammit!" Kenny growled, keeping a tight grip on the boy. Arvo continued to struggle, however, yelling out phrases in Russian so fast Clementine couldn't even recognize the sounds as anything more than noises (then again, she didn't know the language).

Finally, the teen's desperation lured out the remaining Russian; the man stepped out too far from his hiding spot, providing Kenny a clear shot to his head. After the last bullet flew, the whole scene seemed to turn even more still and quiet – like a graveyard.

"Cестра!" Arvo was let go after his ally was dead, scrambling towards the girl on the ground. "Natasha, Cестра!" His fingers ghosted over her wrist, eyes closing tightly as he took some deep breaths and muttered something under his breath.

"Sarita!" Clementine's attention snapped back to Kenny, who was completely dead-set on getting to his fallen girlfriend. "Sarita, Sarita, _Sarita_...!" he repeated, collapsing to his knees in front of the woman and taking her in his arms. She didn't move, her lifeless eyes staring into nothing. The man lifted a trembling hand, gently closing her eyes and holding her close.

"Oh, fuckin' god... not again... not fuckin' _again_... I can't lose you too," he shuddered, loud enough for Clementine to hear from her spot. Her heart began to ache for Kenny; this was just like Katjaa and Duck.

He had to lose all he had left all over again.

Just like her with Lee, in a way. After her parents' demise she didn't want to lose anyone ever again, but she had had to put down Lee a few moments after. Life now was so unbearably cruel sometimes; she looked away from the broken man in the center of the field, turning to look at her companions.

"How many are left?" Mike cried out from behind his half of the wall, breaking her thoughts. "I only got so many bullets, y'know!"

"Two left," Nick announced, his words somber as he pointed towards Arvo and the girl on the ground. "It's over."

_It's over. _Those words echoed in Clementine's mind. The enemies were mostly dead, but she didn't feel as though she'd just won something. If anything, it was a bittersweet triumph; they'd won, but the bodies of Rebecca and Sarita were enough to earn them nothing but grief.

Before she could even think of who to approach first, a squawking voice cut through the quietness of the scene. "Clementine!" Troy hissed, shooting a glare over at her from behind the wall, still in a crouching position next to Sarah. "Get over here and help me!"

Upon seeing her friend in possible distress, the girl dashed over, noting how Sarah was curled up with her knees to her chest, her hands wrapped around her legs as panicked gasps left her lips.

"I can't – I can't breathe..." she was mumbling, her eyes squeezing tightly as she rocked forward in rhythmic motions.

"She's been like this after she squirmed her way outta my grip," Troy muttered, his expression frustrated but not enraged like Clementine had expected. "The hell is wrong with her?"

"A panic attack," the girl replied quietly, crawling forward and patting her friend's knee. "Sarah, um... just... breathe." She struggled to remember what Nick had told her so many days ago; however, before she could, the man in question was already rushing over to make sure she was okay.

Clementine grabbed onto Troy, dragging him back away from the two of them. "What are you doin'!?" he barked, but she silenced him with a glare. It was clear that Nick and Sarah needed to be alone for the time being.

"Ready? One... two... three..." Slowly, he counted as she took some deep breaths in, beginning again once she breathed out in turn. Her wide, terrified eyes seemed to dull after a few moments of the synced ritual, and she nodded in thanks to Nick. The man nodded, patting her back.

"Nick, um... wh- where is... Sarita? And Rebecca?" Sarah whispered, her voice cracking. Nick merely shook his head, his eyes closing briefly. There was no doubt in Clementine's mind he was thinking about when he'd lost Pete.

After a few moments of silence between the two of them, Sarah practically melted into the snow, an anguished cry echoing in the otherwise quiet clearing. "Sarita, Rebecca, _no_!" The girl's hands clawed at the ground until her fingernails were caked with dirt, her face becoming red as she sobbed and sobbed.

"Shit... Sarah..." Luke limped over to Nick after a few moments, sitting down with his friend in front of the girl. It hit Clementine suddenly that the three of them were the last of the original cabin group, and their bond was deep for that very reason. Kenny was the only one left of the ski lodge, but at least he knew Clementine before – and Mike, Bonnie, Jane, and Troy were all from Howe's. The large group that once made up Clementine's allies was dwindling, and only three remained from those that had allowed her into their small family.

Suddenly wondering if she was intruding, Clementine walked out to the clearing away from the three behind the wall, hearing Troy's quiet footsteps behind her. Swallowing hard, she inspected the scene before her.

Kenny was cradling Sarita's corpse, his back turned to the group. Mike was holding his shoulder, wincing at the bullet wound left behind from the fight. Bonnie stood between him and Rebecca's body, flashing a sad glance towards it. After swallowing hard, she quietly approached Kenny and Sarita, her hands held up in defense as she merely picked up AJ and backed away. The child wasn't crying anymore, but wasn't deadly silent, either; gentle coos sounded from his bundled form while Jane stood idly nearby, her gaze trained on the woods.

Arvo was weeping beside the girl on the ground, his head lowered and choppy hair covering his face. "Она мертва... Sh- she... she is dead..."

At the heartbreaking whisper, Clementine's stomach dropped. She glanced at Arvo sympathetically, watching Mike gently approach the teen. The man's eyes showed an astonishing compassion; once again, Clementine was pleasantly surprised at the kindness of the members of her group.

"Hey, kid..." he began, only to startle Arvo. The teen snapped his gaze towards Mike, his eyes wide with fear as though he'd be shot at any moment. His body trembled as he kneeled there, teeth sinking into his bottom lip anxiously.

"P-please! Please, do not – she... she is _dead_! M-my _sister_... dead...!" he choked out, sobs racking his skinny frame.

Clementine softened her gaze, noting Arvo's gun lying uselessly by him – not close enough for him to reach it, though. His shoulders were shaking, his hands grasping those of his sister (Natasha?) as he whispered words in Russian.

It seemed as though the only voices heard in the clearing were those grieving; Kenny was mumbling Sarita's name, Sarah was still quietly sobbing about Rebecca and Sarita, and Arvo was speaking to his dead sister. Everyone else was gravely silent.

"Arvo..." Clementine began, realizing that Natasha would need to be 'taken care of' before she could even think of comforting Kenny, "Arvo, we need to..."

She wasn't able to finish that statement, for Mike stood in front of her, holding an arm out and nodding to her, indicating that he could deal with this. Clementine gave a nod of her own in return, but didn't move just yet. "You need to put her down, kid. She's gonna turn..." Mike whispered, gently getting closer to him.

"No... no, please, I... I cannot shoot her..." Arvo mumbled, shaking his head.

"I know," Mike murmured, his palm clasping Arvo's shoulder. "I know it's hard. But you don't want her to be one of those things, do you?"

The Russian teenager shook his head, his eyes closing tightly. Mike snatched the nearby weapon and placed it in Arvo's palm, silently encouraging him to do what had to be done.

"Wait a fuckin' minute! Don't give him a gun!" Stepping forward, Troy tried to interject, "Are you _sure_ this is a good idea-"

"Yes," Mike replied immediately, narrowing his gaze. "You wouldn't want anyone else to put down _your_ sibling, would you?"

Troy froze, his eyes wide and somewhat distant for a moment before his teeth clenched tightly, his lips almost curling upwards in a snarl. He tore his gaze away, letting out a low growl like some sort of animal, but saying nothing. Clementine gazed up at him curiously, about to ask what his deal was, but decided to let it go for now. Troy didn't need a reason to be defiant, anyway.

A sudden, screeching gunshot made her jump; it _had_ been expected, but she still could never get used to the loudness. Arvo crumpled next to his sister's body, a bullet hole through her head. "Natasha...!" He spread himself out on top of her, crumbling into a sobbing mess. It seemed as though the angry young man that had attacked them for revenge was no more; in his place was a scared little boy, just as scared as the rest of them (if not more), not ready to live without his family.

Clementine felt horribly guilty. It was her fault that this started in the first place, as she'd used that medicine they found without a second thought. She hadn't wanted this fight to end in bloodshed, and definitely not to kill any of the Russians – it was never her intention to kill _anyone_, as she'd proved with Troy – but she had no control over what had happened. She wished there could have been a way for this to end as anything but a '_us or them_' situation, but ultimately that was what it had come down to. And she knew none of it could be changed; Rebecca and Sarita would not come back, and neither would any of Arvo's group.

Loss was inevitable.

Tearing her gaze away from the broken teenager, she decided to next focus on who she was most worried about: Kenny. It was still hard to believe that Sarita was dead, just like that. Just moments ago, she had been telling Sarah what a good job she was doing picking up the medical techniques; only a few days back, she'd told the two girls about her daughter.

Sarita couldn't risk another child dying; it was a noble way to die, but it didn't suck any less. It didn't change the fact that she was dead, and that they would all miss her – _especially_ Kenny and Sarah. The girl was able to get her grief out through tears, but Kenny was a different story.

Lee had told her Kenny let out his sorrows through anger – and she'd witnessed it before, as well. After Katjaa and Duck's deaths, the man became more irritable, and less... sturdy. Like something had cracked and broken beyond repair. She didn't talk much with him normally after that moment.

When she finally saw Kenny's face, she had to pause in her steps to take a few deep breaths. The man looked absolutely horrible, his face scrunched in anguish and his gaze set on Sarita's still face. Just as Clementine thought, his grief was _much_ different than Sarah's. In fact, the sadness almost immediately melted into anger once he noticed her approaching.

"Why did you let her go?" he growled, his tone quiet with a dangerous edge to it. She stopped in her tracks again, blinking in confusion at his words.

"I didn't _let_ her go," she said, crossing her arms. "She decided to go herself."

Kenny snapped his gaze up at her, eyes narrowing fiercely. "You could'a stopped her!"

"What could I have done!?"

"Goddamn it, you... _stupid kid_! You could'a grabbed her arm! Could'a told her no! You could'a done _somethin' more_! She didn't have to be – she didn't have to be no goddamn shield! Damn it, Sarita was _so much fuckin' more_ than that!"

"I _know_, Kenny!" Clementine cried, shaking her head. "Sarita was a good person. I liked her. A lot!" She would never want Sarita to risk her life like that – it had been the woman's choice. Couldn't Kenny see that? And why was he blaming this on _her_, anyway?!

The man closed his eye, stroking Sarita's cold face and murmured, "Do you know what it feels like to get beaten almost to death?"

Clementine stared at him, her heart pounding and nearly leaping from her throat, but she couldn't get any words out. She merely continued to look at him, her lips drawn in a helpless frown.

"Peaceful. It feels... peaceful. Like I was floatin' away, watchin' the whole thing happen to me." Kenny's expression darkened and he continued, "And then I woke up again, and nothing's changed. I'm still takin' a beating, every day. Duck. Katjaa. Sarita. No peace – no rest."

Her heart broke for the man, but Clementine couldn't get over the fact that he'd just tried to blame her for Sarita dying. It scared her, if she was honest; maybe that was selfish of her to focus on how it made her feel, but it still frightened her a bit nonetheless.

And he kept going. "Why couldn't Carver've just finished me off? Obviously, I ain't helpin' anyone by bein' here."

Clementine let the words settle between them before letting out a long sigh and replying, "You help me out. You help us all. I know a lot of them are scared, and need you to be strong."

Kenny pursed his lips, gazing down at Sarita once more. "I'm tired'a bein' strong."

"Well, too bad," she snapped. "You have to be. We're all being strong, even when we're tired of it." Clementine sauntered forward, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. She could feel his muscle rippling underneath, causing her to retract her palm immediately; the last thing she wanted was him striking out at her.

But nothing happened, and the man finally rested Sarita's body down, closing his eyes and murmuring, "This ain't easy, and y'know, sometimes I forget. That you're just a kid, I mean. Ain't very fair'a me. I just... I don't got much left."

"No one does," she pointed out somberly.

He got to his feet, his one-eyed gaze burning into hers. She swallowed hard, feeling a bit nervous. This wasn't the first time she felt uneasy around Kenny, and she was certain it wouldn't be the last, but she stood her ground. As much as she hated him, Carver was right about one thing: Clementine wasn't afraid to push past fear and look it straight in the eye.

Kenny opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his gaze in the distance. All at once, the man's eye clouded and he stomped past her, anger practically radiating off him.

She turned around, watching him storm towards the center of the clearing. She'd noticed that the remains of the cabin group had rejoined the rest of their party, Sarah standing nervously with her head focused towards the ground between Nick and Luke.

After Kenny brushed past everyone else, Clementine realized who he was heading for almost immediately.

_Arvo_.

"Wait! Stop!" she called, following him. The man ignored her, of course, and dragged Arvo to his feet, ignoring the protesting pleas in Russian, and his fist collided with the teenager's head, making him squeak in pain and nearly lose his footing.

"Hey!" Bonnie cried out, handing Clementine the baby and turning to the older man.

"Stop!" Mike yelled, grabbing a hold of Kenny and pushing him backwards, taking a stance in front of Arvo protectively. Luke followed his actions, limping over to protect the Russian from any violence thrown his way. "It's over, man. He ain't a threat to us."

"How can you say that? Of course he is!" Kenny spat, holding a gun towards the three of them. "Get out of the way! Time to do the same thing this asshole tried to do to us!"

"It doesn't have to go down like that," Mike replied.

"Kenny, please!" Bonnie chimed in. "He's just a scared kid!"

"He tried to shoot us!" Kenny roared, anger blazing in his eye so fiercely Clementine's heart skipped a beat, prompting her to hold AJ closer instinctively.

Arvo cowered behind the two men, stuttering out, "I – I no shoot. I never... my gun... it only shoot Natasha. Please, listen!" With tears still streaking down his cheeks, he continued, "There is house. Food! Please, I can take you!"

"Bullshit," Troy snapped, though not as maliciously as Kenny's previous words.

"No, no! Is true. We have place. Not far. Food."

"See?" Luke said. "He wants to help."

"Oh, don't be stupid. He's just tryin' to save his skin!" Kenny snapped. "Why the hell would you help us? Huh?"

The teenager lowered his gaze, shaking his head. "I... I not want to see more people dead..."

Kenny's eyes glittered darkly. "Then close your eyes and I'll make it quick."

Clementine narrowed her eyes, frustrated with Kenny's rage. Arvo had initiated the confrontation, but who had taken the medicine in the first place? Who had remembered how the stranger had been so vengeful after the group had taken his things that he kept tabs on Clementine and eventually led her away from Lee – and still used the medicine despite that?

Whose fault was it, _really_?

"We need the food," she pointed out quietly. "None of this will matter if we all starve to death."

"And if he's lyin'?" Kenny asked, turning his eye on her angrily. "Then we'll all be led into a trap and _be dead anyway_!"

Finally, the yelling became too much for AJ, and he began to cry. Clementine attempted to rock him in her arms, shushing him gently like she'd seen Sarita do a few days ago. Kenny's attention was caught by the infant, his lips pursing in frustration.

"Sarita died to save AJ," Clementine murmured, her eyes closing briefly. "He'll starve, too, if we don't take the risk and go for the food. And then she'll have died for _nothing_." It was harsh, yes, but it seemed that harsh words were what Kenny needed to hear for anything to connect.

"C-Clem's right." A quiet voice sounded from behind Nick; once he moved aside, Sarah cautiously stepped forward, in front of Arvo with Mike and Luke. "...Sarita wouldn't have wanted this. She helped Troy... she would help Arvo if he needed it. Sh-she didn't want anyone to die. She'd never want you to kill Arvo – especially like this!"

Clementine noticed Sarah's legs trembling, the fear reflecting in her eyes behind her glasses, but she held her ground nonetheless. A smile crossed the girl's lips, proud of her friend for standing up for what she believed in. Sarah really was growing more confident as the days went on.

After a few moments of a stare-down between the two, Kenny finally lowered his gun and retracted it with a sigh. "We got somethin' to tie him up with?"

Bonnie nodded quietly, replying, "Yeah. I got somethin'." She pulled a few pieces of rope from her backpack, approaching Arvo gently and began to bind his wrists together.

"Just gimme a reason..." Kenny growled.

"Yeah, man, he gets it." Luke snapped, glaring towards the other man. "You can stop soundin' like a broken record now."

Clementine sighed and watched the group bicker more, keeping her efforts focused on AJ and keeping him calm. The baby looked up at her with wide eyes, and she stared back with what she was sure was the same curious expression he gave her.

Of course, she wasn't able to limit her attention to AJ for long, because a moment later she heard Mike ask in an irritated tone, "What the hell are you doin', Troy?"

She glanced over, just in time to see Mike flash a disgusted glance Troy's way. The one-armed man was crouched near the body of one of the Russians, beginning to unzip their jacket. He grimaced and rolled his eyes, replying, "What? Y'all never looted bodies before? Jesus. No wonder y'all have so little stocked up."

"Save it," Nick snapped, crossing his arms. "_You_ got most of our medicine, anyway. That could'a been used for Rebecca."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "I didn't ask for you to use it, y'know."

"Well you could be a little more _grateful_!"

Clementine stepped up, eying both of them. "Nick, it's okay," she assured, shooting a glare Troy's way, as well. She couldn't deny that he had a good method of survival, taking things from others that didn't need them anymore, but she didn't like it. "If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. _I'm_ not."

"Don't see why not." Jane, of all people, seemed to agree with Troy and checked over one of the corpses by Sarita. "Taking ammo and weapons is what everyone thinks about first, but food and clothing can be just as important. They're not going to need their supplies anymore."

"It just seems... so disrespectful," Bonnie commented quietly, shaking her head.

Jane scoffed. "They're dead. Not like it matters now."

Arvo looked away, muttering what sounded like curses in Russian. "You are bad people," he said through gritted teeth. "You... you take my friends' things... off their dead bodies..."

"Yeah, well, we didn't ask to be _shot at_, kid," Troy snapped, yanking off some clothing for himself. "This one's just got a warm-lookin' coat, and a few bullets with his pistol. Jane, what about that one?"

The woman crouched by the corpse near her, flipping the man over and inspecting his pockets. "Some jewelry... and a few packets of crackers. Among other things."

Clementine was dumbstruck; these two, who were at each other's throats a few days ago, were acting as though they were business partners now, curtly responding to one another as they took clothing and food from bodies that were probably _still warm_. It was disgusting, if she was honest, and she made a mental note to never do something like this. Like Jane said, weapons were one thing, but taking _clothes_... it just didn't seem right.

"Oh, jackpot! The girl's got some bandages and... leather straps? The fuck are these for?" Troy barked, inspecting what he'd found with a confused expression.

"No, please... not Natasha. Leave her, please! Do not – do not use those. They are..." Arvo pleaded, glancing down at his braced leg. "They are for this... My leg, it was hurt... those are in case the brace breaks."

"We can bring them along," Mike assured. "In case we need 'em for you."

Kenny interjected, stepping towards Troy and Jane. "Let's go, you two. Your fucked-up _lottery_ is done," he said humorlessly, eyebrows furrowed.

The two looters shrugged and collected what they'd found, placing it all in the group's backpacks for safekeeping. Clementine was secretly impressed by their haul, though it disgusted her a little. Still, the group now had more medical supplies, some food, and more weapons. Everyone else began to get ready to leave; Bonnie took AJ into her arms again, Nick slung Luke's arm over his shoulder and let him lean on him, and the rest grabbed what they could.

"Clem," Sarah murmured, approaching her friend. "Are we just... gonna leave them here? Without saying goodbye?" Her eyes flashed over to Sarita and Rebecca, her words causing everyone to follow her actions and avert their attention.

With a sigh, Kenny bent down and carefully lifted Sarita's body. Giving her forehead a gentle kiss, he placed her next to Rebecca. "I'm sorry, hon," he whispered so softly Clementine almost didn't catch it. He swallowed hard and turned back to the others, his gaze empty. Mostly everyone walked forward to surround the two fallen members of their group, their heads bowed in respect to the women. The only ones that were not a part of this vigil – Troy and Arvo – were still standing close by, frowns on their faces.

"I guess the cold was just... too much for Rebecca," Luke murmured gravely, closing his eyes. "I wish we could'a helped her more. If I could'a just taken AJ off her for a bit..."

"That's enough," Mike replied, shooting him a glance. "It ain't nobody's fault."

"She would have been a good mom," Sarah whispered, her voice cracking.

"Yeah. She would have. You rest easy, Becs. We'll take care'a your boy," Bonnie promised. "And... Sarita, thank you. Thank you for takin' care'a AJ. He may not be here if it weren't for you."

"He probably wouldn't," Nick commented quietly, lowering his head. "She... was shieldin' him. I saw it."

"Yeah. She cared too much for this fuckin' cold world," Kenny growled, clenching his teeth and tearing his sights away. His boots crunched in the snow as he began to walk away, looking over his shoulder at the rest of them. "Let's go. We need to get AJ outta the cold. And kid, I swear to God, if you're leadin' us into a trap..." He cocked his gun, pointing it at Arvo to finish that sentence without words.

Arvo shook his head, his voice still trembling. "I... I swear, I will take you."

"Let's go, then." At the words, the group began to continue through the cold, huddling around themselves and pretending to ignore the blood peppering the snow.

Clementine turned around one last time, frowning at the two women they were leaving behind. They were both martyrs, giving their lives so the smallest and most vulnerable member of their group could live. They sacrificed everything for AJ – and Clementine wasn't about to let anyone forget that, nor was she going to let anything Rebecca and Sarita did for him be in vain.


	12. Chapter 12

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary: **If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **Thank you all for being patient!

To User: Oh no, I wasn't talking about your review in my disclaimer last chapter! I knew exactly what you meant, and it was another review I was addressing regarding the Troy and Sarah thing. No worries at all! :)

Again, **no** adult/child relationships of any kind in anything of mine, ever!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

The icy wind blew at her hair, sending chills through Clementine's small body. Her arms wrapped around her torso in an attempt at warmth, but it was hardly doing anything for her. Still, she was grateful she had the jacket Bonnie had given her; whether or not it was pretty, it was keeping her alive. Her legs felt heavy as she dragged herself on, nearly catching her tongue between her chattering teeth.

The others traveled just as slowly, leaving many sets of footprints as they trudged onwards to God-knew-where. With Arvo leading them to a supposed safehouse, all they could ultimately do was hope that they wouldn't freeze to death or let exhaustion take them before they reached at least a midway point.

Their main concern now was AJ and his safety; besides promising Rebecca, Clementine felt a protectiveness over the child, and vowed to take care of him. Everyone seemed equally as worried about the baby (except for Troy and Arvo, who looked like they couldn't care less), offering what they could to make sure he stayed warm. Bonnie was doing a good job holding him tightly against her chest, preventing most of the wind chill from getting to him. Jane was walking in front of her, protecting the child even further from the cold.

Kenny and Mike were following Arvo at the very front of the group, their reasons for doing so very different. Clementine was aware that the younger man was only there to make sure Kenny didn't snap and hurt Arvo; enough damage had been done. The teen was limping as it was, and who knew what cracks now covered his soul after putting down someone so close to him? Clementine had been there, she'd known that pain; it was something one couldn't return from.

Letting out a sigh (or was she trying to warm herself?), the girl glanced around weakly, noticing Sarah steadily keeping pace with her, the three younger men behind them. Nick was helping Luke walk after that bullet went through his leg, and Troy was walking ahead of them a bit. Biting her lip, she looked her friend over, noting the way her eyes were glazed over and her cheeks were still stained where tears had fallen.

Sarah had such a big heart; she reminded Clementine of Duck, in a way: so naïve and innocent. But all innocent things must be twisted by this world to survive, sad as it was. Hesitantly, she whispered, "Are you okay?"

Sarah met her eyes, her mouth drawn in a tight frown. Shaking her head, she replied, "No, I'm not _okay_. I… I don't know how you can keep doing this, Clem."

"Doing what?"

"Losing people. Living on. It's so hard; how do you manage?"

The younger girl's expression saddened as she murmured, "I don't like it, but I have to keep going for those that aren't here anymore."

Sarah lowered her head, her eyes narrowing as if studying the ground. "Like... like Sarita," she choked out, "she... kept going for Nilani, even after she died. She took care of others after losing _her own daugther_..." It was clear that that story had inspired Sarah in some way; Clementine could see how Sarita losing her daughter made Sarah recall her own losses, and took the woman's life choices as inspiration for her own. Not a bad role model to have.

"I want to be brave like Sarita. I want to keep going. I want to help out and be a good doctor, but... it's so hard," she repeated, through gritted teeth and shaking fists. "It's... it's so _hard_! I miss them so much, I can't even think straight sometimes. All I can focus on is my dad, and Rebecca, and Sarita. I keep thinking they're just – they're just gonna show up behind us. That my dad will come back. But...!" She sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe at her eyes, her glasses pushed aside.

"But... he won't," Clementine finished for her, reaching a hand over to clasp onto hers, giving a tight squeeze. "You... you know that, right?"

The girl seemed stricken; she flinched and gazed at her friend in disbelief, only to nod a few moments later. It became obvious to Clementine that Sarah was trying so hard to be strong; it was difficult, and didn't happen overnight.

"I do know that," Sarah replied, closing her eyes and slowing her pace. "I... I just..."

"You don't have to get 'strong' overnight, Sarah," Clementine pointed out, "This isn't an easy thing to accept. And besides, I think you're strong right now."

Sarah blinked, her eyes softening a bit at the words. "...thanks, Clem," she murmured, "Sarita was so sure I could do this, but I'm scared. What if I mess up?"

"You won't. But even if you do, it's not the end of the world. You'll be okay. And I'm not going anywhere, either. Maybe you could teach me a few things," Clementine suggested with a nonchalant shrug. She didn't know squat about medical treatment, save for how to stitch wounds shut; maybe it would benefit her to learn some techniques.

"...yeah, sure. I'd like that," Sarah replied with a small nod, her pace still slowing. Clementine let go of her hand and decided to give her friend some space. It was really hard on her, she knew, and it was hard to develop the survival mindset so quickly.

What would Lee be doing right about now, if he were here? Would he be proud of who Clementine became, or disappointed? Would he agree with her decision to save Troy, and bring along Arvo, and to help Sarah accept her loved ones were gone? Would he be mad at her for letting Sarita die, or at Kenny for blaming Clementine?

What would Lee say about Kenny, anyway? The man was worrying her; she tried to tell herself that it may be because Sarita had just died, but she was anxious about his misdirected anger. If he kept blowing up at people like he had with Clementine, she couldn't see things going well with the group.

If they were going to stay a team, they _could not_ turn on one another.

They weren't Carver.

A quiet scuffle of feet snapped Clementine out of her thoughts; turning to look behind her, she saw Sarah slow down to a near-stop, making a very irritated Troy run into her.

"Goddammit, Sarah!" the man hissed, making her freeze with horror.

"S-sorry!" she cried out, wincing as the man lifted his hand as if to strike her. However, he merely placed his palm on her shoulder and used her as a crutch to walk past her, shaking his head in frustration. She stared at him in sheer surprise, exchanging a glance with Nick, Luke, and Clementine, who were both equally floored by his behavior.

Well. Who said the leopard couldn't change his spots?

Clementine gave an amused smirk to Troy as he began to walk in pace with her; the man noticed instantly and flashed a sour look back at her, his lips pursed tightly. "What?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow and feigning innocence.

Troy merely scowled deeper and hissed, "Why are you lookin' at me like that?"

"Well you didn't hit Sarah, for one," she pointed out, shrugging.

Rolling his eyes, the man snapped, "Shut up. She was draggin' her feet, not robbin' me at gunpoint."

Eyes widening for a moment, Clementine was about to point out that Troy had been all-too-willing to hit her back at Howe's for no reason at all, but she kept her mouth shut. He'd only deny it, anyway. Instead, she peered back at her friend, who was keeping pace with Nick quietly.

"I'm worried about her," she murmured, more to herself than to her companion. "This isn't easy... and Sarah's pretty sheltered..."

"What, does she hope things'll get better or somethin'?" Troy asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I think we all have that secret hope, though."

"She's tryin' to stay positive and shit, but it's showin' right through. She _knows_, don't she," Troy commented quietly, glancing behind him briefly. "She knows things ain't good, and that she gotta change how she sees things to survive. Sarah ain't as stupid as I thought. I dunno how I figured it out, but I just... think she actually does know what's goin' on."

Clementine shot him a glare, his voice like nails on a chalkboard for her at the moment, his deep Southern drawl particularly grating and irritating. "Duh," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Sarah's _never_ been stupid."

"Well excuse the fuck out of me for seein' a girl who don't listen and curls up in a ball the moment someone raises their voice at her as _not the brightest_," he scoffed, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't make assumptions," she replied tartly, frowning. "Sarah thinks differently, and there's nothing wrong with that." Clementine couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like having an anxiety disorder of some kind (she didn't know what specifically) in an apocalypse. She admired Sarah – and Nick, as well – for being able to live on despite her setbacks. "She just needs to learn more survival tactics. She's never had to before this, you know, with her dad protecting her."

Troy rolled his eyes. "Don't fuckin' lecture me. She may not be as dull as I thought, but that don't mean she's outta the danger zone yet. I mean, fuck, she wanted to go out into the line'a fire after Sarita – without a gun, even! Don't she know how to shoot?"

The girl shrugged. "I started to teach her before, a while ago, but I don't think she knows very much about how to handle a gun."

"Guess I'll have to teach her, then."

"Wh- excuse me?"

Troy's gaze looked so smug it made her skin crawl. "I said," he repeated, "I guess I'll have to teach her how to do it. Hell, you never know; maybe it's the missin' piece of the puzzle."

That idea sounded... extremely dangerous, but Clementine could also see the logic in it. Troy knew his guns, that was for sure, and Sarah could learn best from someone who was as familiar with them as him. She considered it, but decided to cut that subject off for the time being.

Gazing over at Troy, she noted, "You seem to know a lot about guns – names and numbers and everything. Where'd you learn all that? Howe's?"

Shaking his head, the amputee shrugged. "Nah, it's just my thing. Was in the military."

Flashbacks of a certain air force member appeared in her mind; just before complete starvation settled in at the motor inn, some supplies had been granted to them by a friendly face. Clementine smiled at the memory for only a moment, thinking of how kind Mark had been. She'd practically hugged him when they first met and he offered her an apple.

"Did you guys bring supplies to Howe's? The military, I mean." Maybe that was how Troy got stuck in Carver's community; he'd offered food and had just stuck around like Mark. The hardware store seemed to be well-stocked with food, after all; though, on the other hand, she couldn't see someone like Troy willingly signing up to go help others. He'd probably want to keep all the food for himself.

The one-armed man scowled, lowering his voice. "No. I didn't – I wasn't actively stationed at the time. I was with... some folks, and we found Howe's." There was a distant look to his eyes, as if he was reliving old memories.

"Why would you stay?" she asked, a bit surprised. If he chose to stay under Carver's reign, what did that say about him and the people he was with? Were they even _sane_? Who would think that was a good situation? "I mean, there were... supplies, yeah, but... _Carver_ ran it."

"And?" Troy snapped, shooting a glare her way. "Bill wasn't as bad as y'all like to think."

"He killed Reggie!" Clementine hissed.

"Look, he wasn't always like that," he snarled, "and ain't nothin' you can say to change my mind. He was better than the alternative at the time."

"Which was?"

Troy bit his lip, his eyes growing listless again as he seemed to be mulling over telling her or keeping silent. His gaze focused on the snow below them, shoving his hand inside the pocket of his newly-acquired coat (one snatched from the Russians' bodies). She was about to give up the conversation and just march in silence with him when she heard him take a deep breath and mutter, "Starvation."

More flashbacks to the St. John's Dairy. _Starvation. _They'd all nearly starved before they found the cannibals' farm, and afterward they were fortunate to fall upon the stranger's car and his supplies. What would have happened had they not took those, like Clementine would have wished?

She had been so intent back then to leave the supplies where they'd found them, but a few days ago she'd taken medicine that didn't belong to her after only _some_ convincing. Things were so much different now – now that the decisions were _hers_ alone, and not Lee's.

"I'm sorry," she found herself saying, unable to express sympathy for the man just yet, but not at all _liking_ what had happened to him.

Troy merely shrugged, brushing it off casually, like it didn't matter. "I don't need any fuckin' pity, Clementine," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "I knew what I was gettin' into. I just didn't care at the time. Hell, I never cared." With that, he sped up his pace, falling in line ahead beside Mike and Bonnie. Clementine let him go without saying anything; it was clear he didn't want to talk to her anymore.

But someone else did, clearly, because Jane appeared at her side within a moment. "God, I thought that asshole would never leave. Hey, Clem," she greeted with a smirk, "how are you holding up?"

Clementine blinked; she didn't know when Jane decided they were buddy-buddy, especially enough to call her by her nickname, but she couldn't exactly fight it. They were allies, like it or not. Still, she frowned and narrowed her eyes suspiciously, replying, "I'm okay, I guess." Sarita and Rebecca had died less than an hour ago; how was she supposed to feel?

Jane nodded, glancing behind them for a moment. "Look, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it; I'm a bit worried about Sarah."

"Worried?" Why was Sarah the hot topic all of a sudden?

"Yeah," the woman shook her head. "I saw her try to go after Sarita, and the way she broke down after her death. The way she is... she's gonna cause problems."

Clementine's fists tightened at her sides; again, Jane had nothing to offer her except for criticisms of the way the group worked, and its members. Last time she was complaining about Troy, Rebecca, and Kenny, and now Sarah. Light brown eyes shot down to the woman's ankle, noting the slight limp as they walked on. Surely Jane didn't forget what happened on the observation deck? How Luke and Nick saved her life – something she wouldn't have been able to do if she was alone?

Pushing back an exasperated sigh, the girl replied, "Too bad it isn't your decision who stays in the group."

Jane raised an eyebrow, arguing, "Look, I've just seen this thing before. I don't want it to bite you all in the ass later on. I don't mean to sound harsh, but... she's a liability at this point if she can't even shoot a gun."

"Troy's going to teach her," Clementine shot back, surprised at her own words.

"Yeah, I'd watch that," Jane spat. "He's not to be trusted, and you know it." Her face softened as she continued, "Anyway, I'm just worried about you, Clem. My sister, Jaime – I couldn't save her. I really wanted to, but in the end, she just... gave up."

This was the second time Jane had mentioned her sister; curiously, Clementine pushed on for more details, asking, "What happened to her?"

"Well, she... she was like Sarah," Jane replied quietly. "She didn't really function well in this sort of world. I had to drag her across four states. And every morning, she'd say she wasn't getting up, and I'd have to convince her. Or push her. Or goddamn carry her if I had to. Until this one time..." Her voice trailed off, shaking her head again. Clementine didn't press her any further; it seemed she couldn't continue.

"Sarah isn't giving up," the girl promised. "I know she won't."

"You can't be sure."

"I am. And anyway, I told you before – we don't leave friends behind. And Sarah's my friend," Clementine hissed, shooting another glare to her companion to shut her up. Jane was on her last nerve with her 'survival' tactics, and she didn't want to talk about them anymore.

Jane was about to respond, probably to retort something, when they both heard Troy call out towards the front of the group, his barking tone distinct among their small cluster.

"Hey, Kenny! You think you could fuckin' stop for a second? We got people here that got shot, y'know." He cast a glance towards both Luke and Mike, his teeth gnashing together in frustration.

"Hell no," the older man snapped darkly, "bet that's what Russkie _wants_ us to do, so a buncha his friends can ambush us again!"

Arvo shook his head, a desperate look on his face. "No, I... I lead you to house only! I promise..."

"Yeah fuckin' right," Kenny snarled.

Bonnie spoke up. "Troy's got a point, though. With Luke's leg and Mike's arm... plus your eye, Kenny, and Troy's arm... we really should stop to change some bandages, at least."

"I said _no_, so we ain't stoppin'!"

"Kenny, man..." Luke tried to interject, but as soon as he took another step, he stumbled, Nick having to catch him before he fell face-first into the snow. Letting out a loud groan, he bit his lip and fought the pain to stand back up, leaning heavily on his friend.

"Fuck, are you okay?" Nick asked.

Luke nodded shakily. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just... I put more weight on it than I should've."

"Wait up! We really need to stop," Mike called, eying Luke and the way he tripped over himself. Kenny ignored the plea, giving Arvo a rough shove to keep moving forward.

Clementine watched as Troy marched up to the front of the line, mumbling something about how he wouldn't bleed to death because 'some asshole wouldn't stop marchin' us to hell'. Throwing his face into Kenny's, he hissed, "I _said_ we need to fuckin' stop!"

That seemed to tip Kenny over the edge. Already agitated, the man clearly didn't like Troy's choice of words.

"You don't make the _goddamn decisions_ anymore, asshole! I do!" he yelled, slamming a hand at Troy's neck and wrapping his fingers around his throat tightly. Clementine ran forward instantly, trying to not focus on the way Kenny's nails dug into the skin, surely creating a puncture wound. Troy's eyes bugged out instantly as he processed what was happening, his eyes flashing with fear.

But Kenny didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care; ignoring the pained gasps from the one-armed man, he continued, "Remember this, you son-of-a-bitch. If you remember nothin' else in that fuckin' empty head'a yours, remember that your place here is _temporary_. We can kill you, leave you for fuckin' dead – and no one would care. You're nothin' anymore."

"Kenny!" That was it. Clementine narrowed her eyes into a glare, a hand lifting to try to pry Kenny's arm off Troy. The younger man was struggling to breathe, his hand pawing at Kenny's fingers to try to regain what fraction of air he could. "Get off him!" she cried, pulling with all her might to get him to release his grip.

"P-please stop!" Sarah's terrified voice cried out, though she was frozen to the spot where she was standing. Everyone seemed to be stopped, watching and waiting for something to happen. Clementine was the only one who moved to help Troy out.

Were they afraid of Kenny that much, or did they just hate Troy? She really couldn't tell. Maybe it depended on who it was.

After a few moments of suspense, however, Kenny released Troy. Given his choice of words, it was clear he was not intending to kill him in the first place. So was it a scare tactic? Clementine frowned; she didn't want Kenny to do something like that – it reminded her too much of Carver. She'd never voice that out loud, though.

Everyone stood in silence, Troy's hacks the only sound in the quiet clearing. They were in the middle of snowy woods, Clementine realized, so they could afford to stop for a second to recuperate.

Kenny didn't move, crossing his arms angrily but nodding. Nick took that as the okay, and gently guided Luke to a tree stump, settling the other man down as comfortably as he could. Everyone else spread out among their small space in the forest, most of them away from Kenny's spot.

"I'm gonna try to talk to him," Mike murmured, "he can't be scarin' everyone, especially since we got a kid here." Both Sarah and Clementine looked at him, about to retort something no less, but he raised his hands and clarified, "Whoa, whoa, I meant AJ."

Smirking, Bonnie approached him and said, "Fine, just take AJ. Maybe it'll soften anythin' Kenny wants to say. I'll see what I can do for Luke."

"Uh... okay..." Mike trailed off, a bit unsure as he carefully cradled the infant in his arms. Giving a weird look to the redhead, and then down to AJ, he shrugged to himself and walked off, eager to talk to Kenny.

Sarah pursed her lips and looked back over towards them. "I'm... gonna make sure AJ is okay," she said, nodding to Clementine as she rushed over. Jane, standing a ways off from everyone, followed both of them silently to Kenny.

Turning back to Luke, Bonnie bent down, examining his wound. "That sure got ya," she commented quietly, "but at least it went through, right?"

"I guess so?" Luke said, a bit sheepishly. "I mean, it hurts like hell..."

"Don't _you_ even fuckin' start," Troy hissed.

Luke didn't seem to respond to the malice, however, and just chuckled halfheartedly. "Yeah, guess I could have it much worse."

Nick blinked. "Still, don't take it lightly, man. We should change the bandages. All we have on there is... a piece of Sarita's jacket..."

Somberly, Clementine gazed at the dark blue fabric; it was all they had of Sarita now, at least physically. Carefully, she reached forward to untie it, taking the piece carefully in her hands and gently setting it on the ground. She'd learned a long time ago that she couldn't afford to keep mementos of everyone. Hell, she didn't even have her picture of Lee anymore; the most she had was her hat from her father. Besides, something told her that keeping a bloody piece of Sarita's jacket wasn't a fair thing to keep to remember her by, anyway.

The bullet hole in Luke's thigh seemed to look worse than it was – bloodied, dark crimson, and crusty around the edges. Clementine grimaced; it surely wasn't a fun sight to behold, but at least it could be worse.

Bonnie grabbed a small roll of bandages and antiseptic from her backpack, beginning to unravel a fresh strip of white to wrap around Luke's thigh. Before she could move, however, Troy interrupted, his fingers rubbing at his throat.

"Mind keepin' some'a that for my neck?" he rasped.

The redhead paused and gazed up at him, quirking an eyebrow. After a few moments, she rolled her eyes and replied, "You look fine, Troy. Kenny just left a few bruises, but there ain't nothin' we can do about that." After giving a long sigh, she added, "What is it with you guys?"

"What do you mean?" Luke asked.

"Every man I've known is always tryin' to let each other know how tough they are. Put 'em in their place. Buncha dominant, alpha male horseshit. And it always ends the same way," Bonnie muttered, beginning to wrap Luke's wound.

"I've noticed that, too," Clementine commented quietly. "I don't know why it has to be that way." Lee never did something like that – at least, not that she saw. She wondered, briefly, if he ever got into 'matches' with other men, or tried to prove himself. Maybe when he was younger; Clementine let herself smile briefly at the thought of a teenage Lee, and then frowned again.

Bonnie shook her head, clearly disappointed. "It just is. You get two of 'em in a room together and it's just a matter'a time before they're challengin' each other to _somethin_'."

"Well, don't look at me. I ain't that kinda guy." Luke's response only received a snort from Nick.

The taller male crossed his arms and said, "Yeah, _right_. We've definitely gotten into pissin' matches before. Don't you remember our last challenge?"

Luke paused to think, the gears visibly turning in his head before he brightened. "Oh, yeah... the wake-a-thon?"

"Yeah. Kicked your ass." Nick smirked, adjusting his hat proudly.

"Wake-a-thon?" Clementine echoed, with a raise of her brow.

Luke flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Nick and I wanted to see how long we could go without sleep. Whoever stayed up the longest won, and the loser got to do whatever the winner wanted. Hence, _wake_-a-thon. We nearly gave ourselves heart attacks with all the coffee we drank."

"Speak for yourself; I was chugging Monsters like nobody's business," Nick replied.

"Yeah, whatever. Point was, caffeine could only keep me goin' for so long. I crashed after forty-eight hours or so... slept for a few days after that, too."

Nick beamed, laughing. "That was one I definitely felt after it was over, but I'm glad I won. Luke's face when I made him eat those worms was priceless. Wish I still had my phone to show you the picture; it was my wallpaper for a while."

Bonnie blinked, placing her hand on her hip. "_Worms_? Oh, I'm sorry, I thought y'all were _grown men_, not second graders." Clementine smiled at the humor of the situation, grateful for a distraction from everything for the time being.

"I saw my friend Duck eating worms, once," she commented, keeping her voice down in case Kenny could hear her. Thankfully, though, he didn't, and she merely smiled at the memory. "Though he was pretending they were ramen noodles."

Troy scoffed. "What a weird fuckin' kid. Hell, you're _all_ weird, but I can't disagree with the challenge thing. Me'n my brother used to get into extreme matches with each other to settle stuff. Guess it's a guy thing." He rolled his eyes and continued, "But anyway – _only_ two days? I would'a kicked _both_ your asses into the ground if I'd'a been in on it, and still been rarin' to go when y'all woke up days later. I barely sleep as it is."

"Man, if the world's ever normal again, I'm takin' you up on that," Nick said. "But only because I wanna see the rooster eat some worms of his own."

Luke nodded. "Good idea, Nick."

"Are you kiddin'?!" Troy yelled, frowning. "And what the fuck is with y'all callin' me _Rooster_?"

"Don't you remember, Troy?" Bonnie chuckled. "It was always 'This rooster's gonna be on your ass,' or 'This rooster ain't happy with what he's been seein' in the pen,' or 'Y'all don't wanna make this rooster mad'. Every damn thing you said had to do with poultry."

"Hey, fuck you!" Troy snarled. "It was a way'a keepin' them in line."

"No it wasn't. In fact, that just made me wanna punch you in the face more," Luke admitted sheepishly.

The one-armed man just frowned and narrowed his eyes, making a face that reminded Clementine of the one he made after she told him not to kick her back at Howe's. He looked... _sour_, his lips pursed out like he was pouting, and the skin on one side of his nose lifted to create a snarl-like look.

Honestly, though he was trying to be threatening, she just found it funny. Exchanging an amused glance with Bonnie, she focused back on Luke's wound, noting how much better it looked with some proper bandaging.

"Alright, that should hold for now. Who else needs fixed up?" Bonnie asked, standing back up.

"Mike got shot," Clementine pointed out, glancing over at the other half of the group. "And of course we have Kenny and Troy..."

"_I'm_ fine," Troy growled. "Go check on One-Eyed Willie over there."

After flashing a glare his way, Clementine grabbed a roll of bandages and antiseptic for herself and said, "I'll go... try to help Kenny out." 'Try' was the key word there, and they all knew why.

"Alright. I'll go fix up Mike," Bonnie said. "Luke, y' gonna be alright here?"

Nick cleared his throat. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he stays put."

Luke flashed a grin towards his friend, and then nodded in response. "Yeah, yeah. How can I not be alright when I got one and a half guards here?"

Troy merely glared darkly at the snipe, but said nothing. Clementine smiled a bit at his reaction, pleased he wasn't striking out or yelling, and turned towards the others. It seemed like Mike was deep in conversation with Kenny, but judging by the glares on the men's faces, it was getting a little intense. Jane was engaged somewhat, adding in a few words here and there before crossing her arms and huffing, looking quite annoyed. Sarah merely took AJ from Mike and was trying to shuffle away from the group.

On her way over, Clementine stopped her friend and asked, "How are things... over there?"

Sarah grimaced. "They're still fighting... over what, I'm not really sure. Arvo, I assume, but... yeah. Speaking of, he's just sorta been sitting there for a while now... I wonder if he's okay?" She cast a concerned glance to the Russian teen, who was sitting on the cold ground a few feet away.

Clementine frowned. "I'll make sure he's alright, too," she promised, because nothing about this situation sat right with her. Watching a grown man bully a teenager was off-putting, to say the least. With a frown, she gazed down at AJ and watched him nod off to sleep, trying to appreciate the small bundle of innocence that he was. That innocence would never last, and she knew it.

"No, I... I got it," Sarah said. "I'll check on him, I mean."

Blinking, Clementine nodded to her friend and began to make her way over to the three. She'd just caught the end of their conversation, by the sound of it.

"No one's asking you to trust him," Jane was hissing, "but you can't beat him up every time you get frustrated with him."

"Oh yes I fuckin' can," Kenny snapped back. "It's _his_ fault Sarita's dead. If his group'a trigger-happy Russkies hadn't attacked us in the first place, she'd still be here."

Mike grimaced and argued, "It ain't the kid's fault. You can't be pushin' him around like that."

Kenny opened his mouth to retort something when he noticed Clementine approaching. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat; the moment he saw her, his attention was directed. Frowning, the man lowered his gaze and said, "You here for me?"

With a nod, the girl wordlessly stepped forward, watching Jane and Mike disperse almost immediately. Clementine stood in front of him, showing him the antiseptic carefully.

"What do you, uh... got there, Clem?" Kenny asked, as if he didn't know.

Biting her lip, she hesitated and finally said, "Can I... change your bandages?"

The man stared at her with a long, steely gaze before muttering, "You shouldn't have to do stuff like this..."

To that, she couldn't help but snicker. She'd done _plenty_ worse than changing bandages – and he knew that, too. "I cut off Troy's arm and closed a gash on my arm by myself," she pointed out. "I shouldn't have to do a lot of things, but I did, and I will keep doing so."

Pursing his lips, Kenny merely sighed and began to comply. "Hopefully this don't scare you..." he mumbled, removing his hat and curling his fingers under the crimson rags that were once bandages, stripping them off despite the crusty blood around the area. Clementine winced after he finally peeled them away, leaving an ugly dark red mess underneath.

"So," he continued, "how's it look? Am I still gonna be pretty when this heals?"

She felt the corners of her lips being tugged down, a lump forming in her throat as she recalled what Carver did to Kenny. That man had permanently damaged someone so dear to her; she didn't want to, but she was sort of happy he was dead.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Kenny," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"That bad, huh? You ain't got nothin' to apologize for, Clementine. This... wasn't your doin'." For a moment, something dark flashed in the man's remaining eye as he glared over towards Troy. "And I'm still havin' trouble believin' we got one'a that bastard's men in our group."

Suddenly she felt guilty for bringing Troy along; she didn't regret it (not _yet_), but bringing a direct reminder to Kenny of all the pain he'd gone through wasn't a very smart move for her to make. Still, she knew she did what Lee would have, and that was all she could hope for.

"He's suffered enough," she replied, following Kenny's gaze to the one-armed man.

"Don't tell me you trust him."

"Trust? No, of course not. But... I believe in second chances."

Kenny's eyebrows raised for a moment, contemplating that sentence before he leaned forward. "Well, let's get this over with."

Nodding, Clementine soaked the rag with antiseptic, pausing before she placed it on Kenny's wound. Something held her in place, like she was... afraid of touching him. Given that he'd yelled at her less than a few hours ago, and so violently too, it was no wonder why she instinctively didn't want to get close. But she had to do this – and he wasn't right back then. He was okay now, wasn't he?

"This... is gonna suck," she muttered, gently leaning forward to place the tip of the rag onto his eye. At the slightest touch, however, he leaned back, letting out an angry snarl like an animal, curses flying from his lips. Eyes widened, Clementine fought the urge to scramble back, away from him, but ultimately stayed put.

Once he caught his breath, Kenny gritted his teeth and gave her the okay to try again. Wishing he'd stop squirming, the girl carefully brought the rag closer once more, this time making contact and not having to retract it moments later. The man flinched, obviously in pain,

"So you really stitched yourself up? In the arm?" Kenny asked, biting back a hiss from the medicine's stinging. "That's pretty tough, Clem."

"Yeah," she replied. "It... wasn't fun. About as fun as this is to you, I'm guessing."

"Well, just proves you got those survival instincts. The same kind AJ's gonna have as he gets older."

A small smile crossed her lips. "Definitely. Just like his dad."

"Agreed. Alvin may not have looked like – _hnrk_! – looked like much, but guy had a pair of 'em. Wish we could've brought him along with us. Wish we could've saved him. I'm gonna think about that... every time I look at that baby. Alvin should be here, with Rebecca – raisin' him. It shouldn't... have to be us. It should be his _parents_."

"The best you can do for them... the best _we all_ can do for Rebecca and Alvin... is to raise him right. All of us." After she finally wiped away the majority of the blood from Kenny's wound, Clementine let out a sigh. "Okay, I just need to get this covered up."

The man remained silent as she wrapped his eye again, careful not to rub the wound too roughly and to be as gentle as possible. She remembered doing this with Troy not so long ago; come to think of it, Kenny had had a significantly less dramatic reaction to the antiseptic. At least he didn't cry out and yell at her like she was doing something wrong.

At least the hard part with Troy was over, though, and he seemed to be recovering well enough. Hell, they all were now; given the injuries among the surviving members of the party, things weren't as bad as they could be.

Knock on wood.

Quickly, she finished wrapping his eye, placing his hat back on his head with a small smile. "There. All fixed up." _For now_, she added silently.

"Thanks, darlin', I – wait, what's she doin' with him?" Kenny's attention was snapped to the scene a few feet away. His voice raised in anger as he stood up, eye narrowed fiercely over at where Arvo was. "The fuck are you doin'?!"

Clementine glanced over where he was; Sarah was sitting by Arvo, helping to reapply the support to his leg. The girl froze at his voice, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide with fear and hands hovered just above the Russian's leg.

"I – I was – h-he needed his brace switched out! W-we had the supplies..." Sarah stammered, biting her lip.

"And? What the fuck makes you think we're gonna waste it on _him_?"

Clementine frowned. "We're using it on him because it's _his_ stuff to begin with. It was on _his_ sister. _He_ has the brace. Why wouldn't we use it on him?"

"She's right," Mike chimed in, approaching the teenagers and standing in front of them. "Kenny, I'm gonna tell you one more time: Leave the kid alone. Like it or not, Sarah was helpin' him out."

"He's part of the group now," Nick pointed out from his spot next to Luke.

Kenny snickered at that. "He's only '_part of the group_' until he shows us that house. Then he's outta here."

"Why you gotta be like that?" Luke asked, glaring towards the older man. "He ain't botherin' anybody."

"He knows the area," Jane reminded them, trying to appeal with logic. "If anyone can get us to where we're going, I'm betting on him."

Kenny's fists shook at his sides, as if he was ready to strike out against anyone at any moment. Clementine hesitantly took a step forward, instead of backwards (because her instincts liked to put her _into_ danger, rather than get her out of it). She placed a hand on the man's arm, shaking her head once his eye met hers.

Finally, after the moments of silence in the group stretched on into what felt like hours, Kenny relaxed his tense shoulders and growled, "Fine. Fix him, and let's go. We can't be here all day. Luke, can you walk?"

The man nodded, struggling to a standing position and leaning on Nick. "Yeah, I... think I'm okay." He avoided the other's eyes as everyone shuffled back into a small group for traveling, Sarah hurriedly fixing up Arvo's leg.

"There," she finally said, patting his knee. "Does that feel okay?"

Nodding, the teen replied, "Yes... thank you."

Sarah gave a small smile and asked, "How did it happen, anyway?"

Arvo shrugged, standing up and glancing down at the rope binding his wrists together. "Was on ice. Fell, leg snapped like twig. Took long time to heal... is getting okay, though. At least I can walk."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Wow... sounds like it hurts. Just let me know if it needs fixed again, okay?"

"You did good job, Sarah... Thank you," Arvo repeated, genuine relief shown on his face. Clementine offered a smile to him, too, but he didn't catch it before he was shoved to the front of the group by Kenny.

She pondered, briefly, how much weight compassion held in this world; did it have a bigger effect than intimidation and fear? She'd always chosen to be kind rather than mean, but she couldn't help but wonder which one allowed people to last the longest. Fates weren't sealed, she knew that from Troy – and also, showing kindness could definitely spare a person's life.

Had Carver focused his community on truly being a family, rather than the prison system that mocked an actual working community, would things have ultimately turned out for the better? Or would everyone have died out anyway?

Clementine couldn't help but wonder this as they marched on towards who-knew-where, relying on what tiny shards of trust they had in Arvo and that he was scared enough to lead them to the place he promised.


	13. Chapter 13

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **HELLO AGAIN! We are officially back in business for this fic! Now, I am very sincerely sorry for the wait, and hope you guys aren't too upset with me. I am so thankful for anyone who reads my works, and I'm very sorry that life had gotten the better of me and inspiration for this went down the drain in the process. That being said, this _will_ be finished (I will _not_ leave it hanging), but I don't know how many more chapters it will take. I have another fic I work on (_Electric Sheep_) at the same time, and that has only about three more chapters until completion, so I'm trying to finish both very soon to be rid of the pressure. Multichaps just aren't for me, I think; I'm more of a oneshot kind of gal. Anyway, thank you for being patient, and I promise the wait for the next one won't be as long. I can't promise it'll come soon, but it will absolutely not be as long as it was. I'm thinking once a month, just like I had before. Hopefully.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

"Arvo, is this where the supplies are? Where the food is?" Clementine doubted it; just one look at where the Russian had led them, to a small power plant surrounded by a fence, and it was obvious this wasn't what Arvo had in mind when he mentioned a food-stocked place. Frowning, Clementine repeated her question when he was silent, prompting Kenny to give him a shove.

"Answer her, goddammit!"

The teen stumbled a bit, flinching at the stiffness of his leg, and eventually shook his head. "No... no, is more walk. Few hours."

Kenny roared in frustration, the gun still pointed in Arvo's direction as he shook his head and gnashed his teeth, one hand ironically holding AJ's cradled form as gently as possible.

The weapon constantly trained on Arvo was getting on Clementine's last nerve; why did Kenny insist on treating him like he was going to attack them at any moment? He had shot his own sister before she could turn; that was enough to destroy anyone psychologically, at least for a little while. The fact that Arvo had initiated the fight didn't help things, either. He couldn't be in a good place, mentally; not like any of them were, though.

Clementine stared down the hill towards the power plant, noting that the area was covered by a fence on all sides. That could mean safety for at least a few hours; everyone seemed tired, but was it worth the risk to stop to rest? She blinked and exchanged a glance with whoever was standing next to her - which happened to be Sarah.

"Do you… think that's safe enough to stay the night?" the older girl asked, chewing on her lip as she voiced Clementine's thoughts.

"Don't see why not," Mike replied, and turned to face Kenny. "I mean it's surrounded - and we can sleep in shifts like we did back at Parker's Run. It'd be nice to get some actual rest for a change."

Kenny swept his eyes over the group, probably taking in how exhausted his companions were, and his sights fell on AJ. The baby was sleeping peacefully, cradled in a blanket and kept snug against Kenny's chest for warmth, but there was no way he would last if they kept going until nightfall. If they couldn't get him food just yet, fire would keep the infant alive.

Eventually, after brief moments of thought, the older man nodded. "Fine," he huffed, trudging through the snow and shouldering past Arvo. "We gotta get a fire goin' and figure out the shifts as quickly as possible, though - it's almost sundown and I ain't freezin' to death."

Clementine felt a rush of relief at his answer, seeing the same expression in the faces of the rest of the group, and followed Kenny down the hill. She heard the faint footsteps of the others following her, silently creating a deep path of prints in the snow.

_I hope we can have at least one quiet, peaceful night. _She thought, though that didn't seem likely.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set. Clementine focused her gaze on the orange splashes along the horizon, noting the way the barren trees seemed to blend into the warm colors the sky was producing. She let out a small sigh, seeing her breath leaving in a puff of visible frozen air. Huddling into herself, she gazed around the group seated around her.

Everyone had such a tired, defeated look upon their faces; she couldn't look at anyone for too long, as if she could catch the despair etched onto their expressions like some sort of disease - or like a plague that reanimated corpses after death.

Clementine felt another shudder course through her and scooted towards their fire, which was little more than a small, pathetic flaming bundle of bristles and twigs. The members of the group that were smart enough to sit by the only source of warmth - Bonnie, Mike, Nick, Sarah, Luke, and Kenny - soon followed Clementine, getting close enough to feel the heat radiating onto their faces.

Jane and Troy, on the other hand…

For whatever reason, those particular members of the group thought they were somehow above warmth, or were just too prideful to join everyone else. But she supposed it didn't matter; like the saying went - _you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink_. And those two horses were more stubborn than anyone Clementine had encountered so far.

_Oh well, their los_s. She thought, turning her head to look at the two adults, who had their backs turned to the group. They weren't near each other per se, but rather were in the same general area; Troy was sitting a ways off from Jane, picking at the ground with his hand. Jane just had her arms crossed, brooding about who-knew-what.

Sarah's hand on her shoulder snapped Clementine back to reality; turning to the older girl, she flashed a small grin her way.

"How are you doing, Sarah?" She asked, though in retrospect it was a stupid question. None of them were doing well, so there was only one answer to that.

Still, her friend gave a shrug and replied, "I'm okay, for now at least. I feel kinda sorry for Arvo, though…" She cast a glance over at the Russian teen, who was bound by his hands and over in a corner of their campsite; his head hung low, quiet sobs making his shoulders shake. A soft, sympathetic look crossed Sarah's face as she whispered, "Sarita wouldn't have liked this."

Clementine had to agree with that; Kenny's rage at the boy was misguided, as he was more angry at the death of someone so beloved to him than anything. Still, Arvo was his chosen punching bag, and she could do little to stop the abuse. Arvo had provoked the fight, but ultimately, _he_ didn't hurt anyone.

She sighed, curling her knees up to her chest and mumbling, "I feel bad, too. He just put down his sister." For once, Clementine was glad she was an only child; she couldn't imagine shooting someone close to her age that had been around for most (if not all) of her life. In fact, the chilling thought made her _shudder_.

Kenny, luckily, didn't hear their conversation, and was gazing down warmly towards AJ. The baby was asleep, evident by the lack of cooing from his bundle, and seemed peaceful for now. In fact, everyone seemed to be calming down a bit after their hellish day. They needed it; after the lives they'd lost just hours ago, a mental break was definitely necessary.

Clementine tried to put on a smile for the group, tried to break herself from the harsh reality and just enjoy the peacefulness, even if it was an illusion. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could trick herself into believing everything was okay; that was a rather amusing thought, as nothing up to this point had worked in her favor. A rather hopeless grin spread across her cheeks instead, but she quickly buried it underneath a frown.

She just _could not _let this world break her. It wasn't an option, and she wouldn't give herself the luxury of becoming bitter.

Luke's voice drowned out her fruitless attempt at cheering up, thankfully distracting her from her thoughts. His face looked rather distant as he announced, "Today… uh, today's my birthday. At least… I assume it's around this day. Yeah."

Blinking, Clementine felt a natural smile come to her cheeks and replied, "Happy Birthday, Luke." She remembered all the birthday parties she'd had and went to as a child; days of pinatas and ice cream cakes seemed so far away now. What she wouldn't give for a chocolate chip cookie…

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, man," Mike echoed, and the rest of the group followed with similar wishes. "How old are you?"

"Uh, twenty-seven. Heh. Sure as hell feel a lot older, though," Luke replied sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

Nick elbowed him. "You're only a year older than me, dude. Don't make _me_ feel old."

"Oh, c'mon, don't you two start with _that_ shit," Kenny clucked, shaking his head with a smirk.

Luke gave a half-hearted smile in return. "I got outta college five years ago… feels like a million years." His face fell, eyes trailing off to stare at the ground. Clementine couldn't help but notice how forlorn he looked, despite the lighthearted topic. "At least I don't have to worry about payin' off them student loans."

"I hear that," Mike chimed in. "I'm sure there's some asshole sittin' on that paperwork… waitin' to collect. I'm lucky I went to a state school - wasn't as much cash to dish out."

"What did you study?" Clementine asked, glancing at both Luke and Mike. She'd heard of the dreaded 'student loans,' but thankfully hadn't had to deal with them before the apocalypse.

The two exchanged glances, and Mike answered first. "Pre-med. Like I said, state school meant not as much for tuition… but that was for the first part of school. I still had to work my ass off and was headin' for more schooling before all this shit."

Luke raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Damn. And here I was just gettin' a degree in art history. With a minor in agriculture to keep my old man happy."

"That sounds cool," Sarah commented.

Kenny snickered. "Sounds like you majored in workin' in a coffee shop."

"Pretty much," Luke admitted, exchanging a smirk with Bonnie.

Said redhead seemed to light up all of a sudden, reaching down by her knapsack and mumbling to herself, eventually bringing up a large bottle. "Oh, I almost forgot! I was savin' this for a special occasion, and well… it bein' your birthday and all, figure… it's as good a time as any." As she moved it about, thick liquid inside the bottle sloshed around.

Clementine had seen that sort of thing before; it was some kind of alcohol. With a bit of a sly smile (oh, what would Lee think of her now?), she said, "I'd like a sip. I mean… after you… obviously."

Nick gave her a sheepish look. "_Really_?" The last time she'd had a sip of something like that was in the shed with him, and they both remembered how badly _that_ had gone.

"Absolutely fuckin' not," Kenny snapped, flashing a glare towards her. "You are not drinkin'. That is that."

Sarah scrunched up her face. "Yuck! Kenny's right; we're not supposed to drink that yet, Clem. Where did you even get that, Bonnie?"

A rough, unexpected voice sounded from over near the fence. "She stole it from fuckin' Bill, how else do you think?" Troy had turned around, his eyes narrowed fiercely. The dark of the spot he was in only made him seem more menacing, though Clementine could see right through his bullshit.

"Oh, Bill didn't like to drink anyway, Troy," Bonnie reasoned. "What was the harm in takin' it?"

"Yeah? Well, y'all won't be gettin' help from me if you're too drunk to defend yourselves. Irresponsible little shits…" The man's voice trailed off into grumbles, and he turned back around, no doubt glaring towards the fence.

Clementine sighed to herself, rolling her eyes; she had almost forgotten how annoying he was in the peace of the situation, but he just had to remind her. Luke chuckled at her irritated look, gazing down at the bottle he'd been given. "Well, _anyway_, I feel a little guilty, takin' the first…"

"Whoa, wait. You gotta make a toast first," Bonnie insisted. "Come on, birthday boy - it don't have to be fancy. We'll just pass the bottle around afterwards and have a sip."

Luke took another slow look at the group, eyes focusing on each member of the group before he cleared his throat. His voice trembled a bit as he lifted the drink up, choking out, "To the loved ones that we've lost along the way… and the hope that we see them again. Someday."

Clementine frowned, watching everyone's faces melt into pensive thought, each person reflecting on their own lost friends and family. Just for a moment, she found herself thinking of Lee, of her parents, of Sandra… of everyone she'd met and had to say goodbye to since this whole thing began. Closing her eyes, she pretended that Lee was next to her again, and tried to convince herself that the warmth of the fire was his hand gently rubbing at her back. The illusion was so strong, she swore she heard the word "sweetpea" for a moment. But of course, once she opened her eyes again, Lee was gone, and the fantasy died away… just like him.

The next moment, however, Sarah's hand squeezed hers, and she gazed over to her friend. The girl's eyes were saddened, but she was clearly trying to be strong despite that. Clementine forced a smile for her friend's sake, turning her attention back to the adults.

"Here, here," Mike chimed in, raising his hand.

"That was… nice, man," Nick commented.

Luke smirked. "Yeah? I didn't mean for it to rhyme… It just sorta did." He pressed the bottle to his lips, taking a long sip of the drink. Pulling back, he wiped his mouth off with a rough sigh, handing it over to Bonnie.

"Thanks," she murmured, her sights set on the two members of the group refusing to get warm. "Hey, Jane! Troy! Y'all want a sip of this? For the toast?" Clementine caught the hopeful look in her eyes.

"Maybe later," Jane merely called, and Troy shook his head with another dark glare.

"Sheesh. Crapapples," Bonnie snorted with a shake of her head. After she took a sip herself, she passed it along to Mike. "Still, I did like that speech, Luke. It's hard to forget the lives we left behind, that's for sure…"

At those words, Sarah suddenly lit up. "Oh! Wait a minute, I have an idea!" She scurried over to one of the backpacks, digging around and mumbling to herself. "Oh, c'mon… where is it? One second…! Here we go!" After a few moments of searching, the older girl returned with a bunch of rope in her hands. Sitting back down, she cracked a wide, nervous grin.

"What's that for, Sarah?" Nick asked.

"Um… so…" The girl began nervously, chewing on her bottom lip. Clementine nodded in encouragement to her; with a small smile, she bobbed her head in return and continued. "When I was a kid, I had a lot of pet fish. I wasn't allowed to have much else, not like a dog or a cat or anything…"

"Unsurprising," Luke commented, rolling his eyes with a soft smirk. "I can't see Carlos likin' the idea of a big dog rompin' around ya, Sarah."

The girl smiled back sheepishly. "I… I guess that sounds like my dad, doesn't it? But, yeah, I only had fish. They usually didn't last long, though, so we had to keep getting more… whenever I lost one, I'd bury it in my backyard. There was a whole graveyard at one point, with headstones and everything!"

"Sounds sorta creepy," Clementine joked, imagining a bunch of tiny headstones out in a backyard, like they were just another part of the scenery.

Sarah nudged her friend. "No, it wasn't - it was cool! All my neighbors thought so, at least. So, um, eventually, there were too many fish graves to really remember who was who. Like, Fishy was next to Swimmy, but I couldn't figure out where Nemo went, and - _anyway_, I had this idea one day, when I found some rope in my dad's shed." Holding up a piece of rope, she pointed to the ends. "I would make a knot for each fish I lost - and just keep the rope in my room. That way, everyone was accounted for, and I had something to hold onto."

Luke brightened. "Oh, I get it, so you're sayin' we should do that, now?"

"Yeah!" Sarah exclaimed. "I mean, if it's okay - I know we only have so much of this, but… I think it'll help. I've been wanting to do it since…" Her words trailed off, and she merely shook her head clear. "Is it okay?"

Bonnie nodded. "A'course it is. Clem, can you cut pieces for everyone?"

"Sure. How many?"

"Um… Well, there's Kenny, me, you, Bonnie, Mike, Luke, Nick, and… I think we should keep some for Jane, Troy, and Arvo, too." Sarah nodded to herself, as though to confirm it.

Clementine raised her trusty hatchet and sliced into the long piece of rope, watching it split into halves, and thirds, and quarters, and so on. She did think it was a good idea, and wished she'd thought of something like it before; she could keep her own rope pieces in her pocket from now on, to keep Lee and the others close to her.

The group around the fire fell silent as they received their slice of rope, gazing down at it and pondering how many knots to make. Clementine did the same, only pausing to watch Sarah approach the other three and offer them a piece.

She overheard Jane mumble her thanks, but Troy had a bit of a different reaction. Clutching the small piece of rope in his hand, he threw it a few feet away from him, hissing loudly, "Fuck, I don't want that, Sarah! Doin' that… _rememberin'_ shit only slows you down. Don't y'all know that?"

Sarah frowned and stared at her feet, mumbling apologies. Mike called over, "Oh, pay him no mind, kid. I bet he's just pissed he's got no one to knot into that rope."

Troy was practically red in the face from Mike's comment, but Sarah didn't notice and cautiously approached Arvo. She murmured something to the teen, placing a piece in his hands. Afterwards, she made her way back to the fire and sat down.

Clementine glanced around, noting the knots that everyone had made. She looked down at her own rope slice, and made three knots - for Lee, and for her mother and father. Though she'd lost so many, those three were the most heavy on her conscience. Their memories constantly ate away at her, taunting her for being alive and not doing more to save them.

Frowning, she heard Sarah begin talking and focused her attention back to her. "Does anyone want to, um, share theirs? I'll go first." Holding out her piece of gnarled rope, she counted the knots. "One, and two - for my mom and dad. I… I miss them so much." Clementine flashed her friend a sympathetic glance, somewhat proud of her for being so open about things, though.

Luke volunteered to go next. "I, uh… I made a few for my folks - for my mom and pop, and my aunt. We all lived in a house way south from here, together, and after the lurkers, shit just… happened, and they were gone. Also made two for Rebecca and Alvin. So that's five for me."

Nick placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Quietly, he placed his own rope piece in front of him. "Two knots - one for my mom, and for Pete." His eyes glazed over with pain, but Clementine could see something different in them for once - a burning desire to continue, to live. Again, she wondered - what had changed in Nick so suddenly?

"Pete was a kind man," Bonnie commented. "And I'm not just sayin' that - I always thought he had a goodness inside him that was too pure for Howe's. He cared too much." After Nick nodded his thanks, she continued, "Anyway, I made one for my Mama and Pop, who are hopefully watchin' over me nowadays. Now, as for my big brothers, I don't know where they ended up, but I have a lotta confidence they're still alive. Strong sons-of-bitches, they were."

"How many brothers did you have?" Mike asked.

"Four, if you can believe it. And I was their 'baby' sister - though I was never a baby around them. Toughened me up, though, I guess." Snickering, she added, "And these last two, well… I was with some folks before I ended up at Howe's - I mean, before the group I came in with. Leland, and Dee… they were such kind people. I can't ever repay them for what they did for me." Her eyes reflected deep regret in them, and Clementine wondered what had happened to them, and how it all went down.

"Damn," Mike commented, scratching the back of his neck. "I made one for my younger sister, who I was… separated with before comin' into Howe's. I don't think she's dead - at least, I hope to God not - but just in case. And one for my mom, too - she was such a badass woman. Fought to get us both out of the house when the lurkers attacked."

Bonnie next gave him a look of compassion, frowning. "Your mama seemed like a strong gal."

"Amen." Mike snorted, still in enough of a good mood to put humor into the situation. Clementine liked that about him - he kept things light. "If I'd have died in that herd, I just know she'd be nagging my ear off - well, the good one."

Clementine smiled slightly, holding up her piece. "I made two for my parents, who were in Savannah when this whole thing started… and then, of course, my friend Lee. He took care of me, and gave his life so I could live." Her stomach churned with uneasiness at the memories, a deep sadness looming over her heart. Just for a moment, she let herself feel that loss, that sorrow - and then forced it out as best she could. "He taught me how to survive."

"You mentioned him before," Luke murmured. "He seemed like a good man, too."

"Oh, that don't even cover half of it," Kenny retorted. "Lee was one'a my best friends. We may not have agreed all the time, but we were partners in the end. He and Clementine were two of a kind, never saw one without the other. Hope you don't mind, Clem, but I put one knot on my piece for him. And…" The man's eyes clouded for a second, the past overtaking him. "And a knot for my wife, Katjaa, one for my son, Duck, and of course… one for Sarita." He closed his palm around the object, closing his eyes in thought. "Made two for Walter and Matthew, too."

Nick's face drained of color at those last words, and after exchanging a glance with Luke, he cleared his throat. "Uh... uh, Kenny?" he croaked nervously. "I gotta confess something to you, man."

"Is this really the, uh, place, Nick? After we're havin' us a good time talkin' about loved ones?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head. Clementine tried to relay that same message over to the man, but he was persistent as usual.

"No," he insisted. "I have to! It's now or never, and I can't take it anymore. Kenny... before we found the cabin, Clem and Luke were talking to Matthew on the bridge. I... I thought they needed help, because they waved to me. I was so fucking stupid, and I..." His voice broke as he hung his head low. "I shot him. Right off the bridge. I'm... sorry. I'm so sorry."

Clementine gazed at Sarah, whose whole face painted her sympathy. The older girl curled her knees closer to her chest, heaving a quiet sigh to herself.

No one said a word as Nick's shoulders shook with tension and guilt, his head lowered in submission. Kenny's eyes were unreadable, his lips drawn into a tight frown as he studied the younger man. It was clear that Nick was haunted by his decision, but did that mean anything to Kenny, or did he want him to suffer for what he'd done?

Finally, Kenny let out a long breath and murmured, "Kid, we've all done things we regret, even if we thought we were doin' the right thing at the time. Hell, I... I killed an unconscious man who might'a lived, had I not smashed his face in. I can't say _it's okay_, but there ain't no need to torture yourself; I ain't gonna lash out." He flashed as gentle a smile he could manage at Nick. "I don't think Sarita would've liked that very much."

Nick was speechless, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he replied, "Thank you... thank you, Kenny."

Kenny nodded, but said nothing more on the matter, clear that he was finished talking about it. But Clementine knew that that was exactly what Nick needed to hear; that while it wasn't something he should be _okay_ with, the fact that he killed Matthew was something he needed to put behind him. It was only dragging him down.

Nick's leg bounced up and down nervously as he sat, and Luke patted his knee in comfort. The two friends exchanged smiles, and Clementine felt another warm feeling of relief wash over her.

"Well, I hate to cut this moment short," Kenny announced suddenly, standing up. "But I'll go on first watch, I guess."

"We're pretty secure with this fence," Mike pointed out.

"Can never be too careful."

"But…" Clementine was worried for him, yes, but her concern mostly lied with AJ, who was still in Kenny's arms. Did he really intend to deny the infant warmth because of his own 'obligations'? "Can you leave AJ with us?"

Kenny shrugged. "Sure. Little guy should keep warm, anyway. Here, Bonnie." He offered the child to the redhead, who took him in her arms gently. "Now, I'm off." Without anything more, he marched off to a corner of the small, fenced-in area, most likely to reflect.

Clementine couldn't blame him, as they'd been through so much, and the 'icebreaker' activity they'd just had wasn't helping to keep their minds off things. Not that she thought that was the best method - sometimes you needed to let it all out, and keep those you love and lost on your mind. There was a time and place for that sort of reminiscing, and when Sarah proposed it, it was okay.

But most of the time now, it wasn't.

"I'm going to go see if Arvo needs help with his rope piece," Sarah announced, standing up. She waved to Clementine, and without another word, made her way over to the bound teen away from the rest of them.

Really, Clementine pitied him; it wasn't her decision to tie him up, nor to leave him in the cold. She wished the others wouldn't be so cruel.

"Clem, can you see if they want to join us by the fire?" Bonnie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Maybe try bringin' that bottle, see if it works in persuadin' them."

The girl nodded, taking the alcohol (damn, this was heavy) and approaching Jane first. The young woman seemed in a daze, her back turned to the group and her arms crossed at her chest, gazing outside the fence as though there was a ghost or something there she couldn't quite see. When she was approached, however, she turned around and nodded in greeting.

Clementine offered the bottle to her, which just made her scoff. "They expect you to lure me over there with alcohol? I wouldn't have expected a bottle to last that long, honestly." Jane rolled her eyes, though she wore a playful smirk.

"We just want you to get warm, Jane," Clementine replied with a shrug. "This is a bonus, though, if you want it." She held it out, an expectant look on her face.

Jane pursed her lips. "What is it?"

Inspecting the bottle's label, Clementine replied, "...um, I think it's rum…?" She didn't know much about alcohol - thankfully! She could only imagine her father and Lee's faces if they knew what she was doing now.

With a quiet laugh, Jane nodded, taking the alcohol without a word and pressing the tip to her mouth. After taking a gulp, she brought the bottle back down and muttered, "Why does this feel like I've signed a contract or something…? Still, it's pretty good. Want a sip?"

Instantly, Clementine shook her head. "No thanks." With the memory of her loved ones so recent, she didn't think they'd approve of the act; it was easier to say no (though she was curious).

Jane snorted, her eyes studying the bottle's label absentmindedly. After reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her own piece of rope from Sarah's… _activity_, one tiny knot tied into the center. "What'd you think of that rope thing… ?"

"I liked it," Clementine answered, honestly. "I think we all need to remember who we lost along the way."

"Even if we feel nothing about them?" Jane questioned, not giving her a chance to reply. "My sister - Jamie, I've mentioned her before if you remember… she… gave up one day. Didn't want to get out of bed, even. She said she couldn't do this anymore. And can you really blame her?" Bitterly, the woman knitted her eyebrows in frustration.

Clementine frowned. "It's… it's hard to keep going sometimes. What happened next… ?"

"I had to drag her ass to the roof of the house we were staying in, and she still refused to move. So I just… left her there." Jane crossed her arms, shaking her head. "When I say it like that, it sounds so… weightless. Like I'm just talking about the weather or what I ate for breakfast; fuck, I left my sister to die. Even if she was too weak to continue, and I don't regret it, shouldn't I feel… _something_?"

It was clear that Jane had numbed herself to the pain of losing her sister - either that, or she truly did have Carver's instincts from the start, choosing to let the weak die and rise above them in the end. Clementine really hoped it wasn't the latter, but she didn't really know Jane. The way she talked about Jaime _was_ mechanical, almost like a robot or something.

Biting her lip, the young girl didn't really know how to answer that. She didn't know a lot about things like this, truthfully - she just knew how she felt about things, and chose what she assumed was right (and what Lee would have done). But without guidance, Jane had to make her own decisions… even if they seemed like the wrong ones afterwards.

However, before she could even form a response, a figure approached them, its shadow flickering next to theirs. A familiar voice broke through the awkward silence like nails on a chalkboard, the thick Southern drawl almost _squawking_ (which was… fitting, considering the speaker).

"What the _hell_ did you just say, Jane?" Troy stepped forward, his face dark with anger. "You left your sister to fuckin' die? Just willy-fuckin'-nilly? Like she was nothin' but old newspaper? The _fuck_ is wrong with you, bitch?!" His eyes were fierce, his tone aggressive as he shoved his face into Jane's.

The young woman didn't take too kindly to him being so close, naturally, and shoved him back. "Watch it, _stumpy_. I didn't realize you were such a good judge of character. Who was Carver's mutt, again? What, did he promise you a bone the moment you were done mocking the 'chickens' in the pen? In more ways than one, I assume."

Clementine didn't know what that meant, but it sure did make Troy mad. The man's lips curled back like a dog's, his voice low. "Y' just don't _get it_. Older siblings are supposed to watch out for the younger ones. Are you fuckin' stupid? Why would you _do _somethin' like that?"

Underneath all that rage, Clementine could almost detect a bit of hurt and… something else. There was definitely another emotion there, but she couldn't tell what it was, exactly. Whatever it was, it wasn't normal Troy-behavior, that was for sure.

"Troy, what's gotten into you?" she murmured, reaching forward to grab onto his sleeve.

Roughly, he shoved her off. "Oh, fuck off, you little shit. We ain't buddies, and there ain't no way I'm stayin' here any longer than I need to."

"Good," Jane snapped. "You can leave whenever you fucking want, you know. Unless you have a bit of an inferiority complex, and need someone to tell you what to do. Well, here, I'll say it again: you can leave, Troy. And don't you ever question my actions again. You weren't there, you can't judge how it felt to leave Jaime behind."

"_**It don't matter**_!" Troy roared, his fist shaking at his side and his head lowering to hide his eyes. "I heard what you were sayin'. _You_ were supposed to be there for her, and _you_ let her down. It was all _your_ fuckin' fault she died." The anger was barely present anymore, replaced by a practically tangible misery that both of them could detect quite easily.

"Troy, are you…?" Clementine began to ask if he was alright, but he whipped himself around and trudged off, shouting to Sarah.

Jane folded her arms in front of her chest, blinking. "I don't… know what just happened," she admitted, stupefied. "I mean, I'm not stupid, am I? That definitely wasn't aimed at me, right?"

Clementine shook her head. "No, it wasn't. I don't know what's wrong with him - besides the obvious." She forced a little smirk on her face, exchanging it with Jane. "I am going to go see what he's doing with Sarah, though."

"Be careful. I don't want _him_ to be your downfall." The woman kicked at the ground with the tip of her boot, adding quietly, "But it looks like he's got some demons of his own to slay. Hope he can, before they eat him alive."

"That's everyone's burden," Clementine pointed out. "But we can all slay our demons together."

Jane chuckled. "We can sure as hell try, Clem. I think I am going to go sit by the fire now - just being around Troy gives me chills." She gave a dramatic shiver, huddling into herself for effect. At Clementine's surprised glance, she added quickly, "And _not_ the good kind of chills, trust me."

The girl nodded, giving another small smile. "Okay. Thanks, Jane. And… no matter what happened with your sister, um… you're welcome in our group." She tried to remain positive, after all, as painful as it was. And holding Jane accountable for her actions before they met wasn't fair.

After giving a small wave, Clementine turned to see Troy and Sarah standing together a bit away from the group, bottles and a gun in hand. She could only assume that Troy was holding true to his word, and helping Sarah learn how to shoot; Clementine would have to make sure she was present for the lessons, just to be safe.

As she made her way over, however, she stepped on something around the area where Troy had been sitting. Crouching down, she inspected it.

**[Look At: Rope]**

It was the slice of rope that Sarah had given Troy, she assumed - but it didn't look the same as before.

In the middle of the piece were two large, distinct knots.


	14. Chapter 14

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **If any of you are on Tumblr, you may see some familiar names mentioned in this chapter. It should be noted, however, that I created the characters for this story - I just included them on my Troy roleplay blog because I could do that first (and hadn't gotten to this part of the story yet).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

"Alright, Sarah, remember that it ain't a toy." Once Clementine was within earshot of Troy and Sarah, she heard the man begin his instructions on handling the gun. Troy held the weapon gently, as though it was a child, and had the barrel pointed down and away from them. If nothing else, it could be said that he knew how to hold a gun properly.

Truthfully, Clementine was quite nervous about this; she still couldn't trust Troy one hundred percent, and his little outburst a few moments ago didn't do him any favors in that department. As she approached the pair, her eyes were locked onto Troy, ready to intervene if there was trouble.

However, the man nodded towards her once he noticed her presence, straightening himself. "Great, Clementine, you're just in time. I'm gonna teach Sarah how to shoot one'a these." Lifting up his pistol, Troy gave it a once-over and stepped towards the fence. Near the edges of their caged perimeter, a few run-down crates were set up with bottles on top of them.

"How'd you, uh…" Clementine began, pointing to the makeshift targets. They were unpleasant reminders of shooting things like that on the train with Lee.

"We found those just thrown around this place. I think they're beer bottles or something…" Sarah replied, her face scrunched up in disgust.

"Thank God for litterers," Troy added with a snort, earning a halfhearted glare from both of the girls. "What? Had they not been careless, we wouldn't find their shit tossed everywhere. Don't blame me." He gave a shrug, inspecting the targets. Crouching down and placing the gun on the ground, he adjusted the bottles to make sure they were in a good spot on each of the crates. After they met his standards, Troy turned back around and handed the gun, handle-first, to Sarah.

The older girl simply stared at the object as though she didn't really see it there, chewing on her lower lip and raising her gaze to look into Troy's eyes. Clementine caught the fear and hesitation almost hidden behind the red glasses, noting the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the next anxiously.

"I, um… I don't know if I can… um…" Sarah stammered, fiddling with the strings of her hoodie in apprehension. "One of those… sh-shot my…" Her voice trailed off and she lowered her head, eyes screwed shut in mental pain.

Clementine placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sarah, I know it hurts, but you do need to learn." How else would Sarah survive this cruel world? If she couldn't shoot a gun, she'd have to rely on other people to live, and that wasn't safe or really possible anymore.

"Clementine's right," Troy remarked, though his voice didn't hold its usual menace. "S'time to grow up, Sarah." Pushing the weapon further, he placed it in her palm and stepped behind her. With more gentleness than Clementine would have thought the man was capable of, Troy guided Sarah's arms with his hand as best he could, lining up the barrel of the gun with the bottles near the fence.

Sarah whimpered, glancing back at him with fearful eyes. "But… but what if… what if I hurt someone?"

Troy scoffed. "That's kinda the fuckin' _point_, kid. But if y' mean your 'allies,' check what you're doin' now: takin' your eye off the gun. Not a good idea, see, and could get people killed if you ain't careful." Correcting her aim even further, he added roughly, "Shoot to kill. Aim for the head, but if y' can't, the kneecaps." He pointed towards the bottle squarely, squeezing an eye shut in concentration.

The girl was visibly trembling, a sheer contrast to the last time she'd held a gun. While Clementine was glad she wasn't foolishly holding a weapon to her head as a joke, she still was worried about her apprehension. An itchy trigger finger was not a good thing to have, even if it was triggered by nerves.

"It's okay, Sarah," she encouraged, remembering Lee's lessons to her. "To start, you should take a deep breath and let it out slow while you pull the trigger. And for aiming, look through that notch at the top. Line it up with your target." Going through a mental checklist of things she'd learned, she quickly added, "Oh, and always pull the trigger steadily - don't yank it."

Sarah blinked incredulously, as though it was hard to digest all of this new information. It probably was very difficult, but she had to learn. Troy had put it in a rude manner, but Sarah _did_ need to be an adult.

After a few quiet moments, the girl nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay. Um… here goes…"

"Wait a second." Another voice sounded before she could continue; when Clementine turned, she noticed Mike approaching the group, his arms crossed. "Troy, are you crazy? You didn't tell anyone you were doin' this kinda shit? What if we just heard gunshots and came running?" His eyes narrowed, clearly trying to glare holes into Troy.

The one-armed man wasn't fazed, though. "Oh, fuck off. You're lucky I'm willin' to do this in the first place." He scowled, turning back to Sarah to line up her aim.

After Mike waved over to Bonnie and made a motion to indicate what was going on, he walked a bit closer to the two to inspect Troy's work. "Man, you're _way_ off. Here, Sarah." Stepping in, his hands guided a more accurate place for her to shoot - much to Troy's irritation.

Once she seemed to have the approval of both adults and a nod from her friend, Sarah sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and squeezing the trigger. The resulting shot rang out and barely missed the mark, making her yelp and drop the gun immediately.

"Hey! Don't fuckin' drop it! It could go off!" Troy hissed, picking it up immediately. "Try it again."

"Don't yell at her," Clementine snapped. "Sarah, that was good. Maybe aim a little to the left now." She smiled, trying to be encouraging.

Sarah reflected that smile. "O-okay, Clem. I know what they're supposed to sound like, it just… I guess I wasn't expecting that."

Memories flooded Clementine's mind - memories of the train and how hesitant she'd been to hold a gun at first, too. "It's okay, that's normal," she assured, "Remember, it's just a thing."

Sarah merely huffed, doing as her friend had instructed and aiming towards the left. At the second shot, the bottle she'd been aiming for exploded into dozens of glass shards.

This time, when Sarah shrieked, it was of joy. "I did it!" she exclaimed, looking as excited as a child at the accomplishment. Clementine couldn't help but smile and murmur her approval as Sarah lined herself up for the next shot, casting an unsure glance at the two men.

Mike smiled. "That was good. Now, a little to the right this time, Sarah."

"I'd say she's dead-on," Troy mumbled.

"You would say that," Mike shot back. "But I think I know what _your_ problem is, man."

"And what the fuck is my _problem_-"

Another shot burst through the air before they could continue, visibly startling them both. Another bullet had hit the fence behind the bottles, barely missing the mark. A frustrated cry of "Dang it!" escaped Sarah's lips as she stomped down.

Clementine chuckled. "It takes some getting used to. But Mike was right; try to the right."

Grimacing, Sarah once more lined up her shot; Clementine could visibly see her trying to do as she'd instructed, sucking in a long gulp of air and pressing it out slowly through her lips. Her eyes narrowed behind the red frames, a deep concentration embedded into them. Her gaze was completely locked with the target bottle, and once she squeezed the trigger, the bullet shot right through it.

"Attagirl!" Mike cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Even Troy nodded his approval. Clementine flashed her a thumbs-up.

With a bright smile, Sarah made sure her next shot was in range and fired a bullet with almost no hesitation. After she'd barely missed the bottle, another shot rang through the air, hitting the target dead-on. Grin widening, she bounced up and down. "I did it! Yes, yes, yes!" she cheered.

"Hey!" Troy squawked, leaning forward to take the gun by the top of the barrel. "Don't be jumpin' with this in your hand." Growling, he snatched it from her and added hastily, "Seriously, Sarah, I mean it - _not_ a fuckin' toy. You use this to _kill_."

"Or hurt," Clementine pointed out. "If it's not a walker."

Rolling his eyes, the one-armed man snapped, "It's better to kill regardless. Keeps you and the people you're with safe. Clementine, I figured _you'd_ know that, survivin' this long." His eyes flickered with a boldness she wasn't comfortable with, almost like he was mocking her.

Thankfully, Mike glared his way in response. "Lay off them. Sarah, that was awesome. Keep practicing and you'll be used to it in no time."

Sarah nervously chuckled. "I'm not so sure I'd want to be _used_ to it, but… I guess I have to. Thanks, Mike. And Clem. And - and Troy." She nodded to each one of them in acknowledgement.

"Hey, anytime," Mike placed a hand on her shoulder and replied, "I'm serious, you're doing good, kid. You're learning how to protect, and that'll keep us all that much safer." His smile faded after a moment, however, and his eyes cast over to Troy. "Speaking of learning…"

Troy blinked, hostility clear in his gaze. "What the fuck are you lookin' at?"

"I'm not blind, man. You're strugglin' with that arm and being left-handed now. Lemme guess - you weren't trained on how to shoot with both hands? I could see it plain as day before - where you were telling Sarah to shoot was way off target." He took out his own gun and pointed it with his left hand towards the remaining bottles. "Try holding it like this."

Troy seemed as though he was about to maim Mike on the spot, his eyes widened with rage and his lips curling like a dog's. Clementine shot him a warning glance, but he didn't catch it; thankfully, though, he calmed himself down and recognized when he needed help (for once, at least), attempting to mimic Mike's stance.

"How d' you even know how to do this?" he murmured, clearly unhappy.

Mike smirked. "I'm ambidextrous."

"Fuck, is that contagious?!"

"...what? No, you dumbass - it means I can do shit with both hands. Taught myself in middle school. Figured it'd come in _handy_ someday… no pun intended. Though I didn't know I'd be teaching how to shoot lurkers."

"Yeah? No shit you didn't know. And what do you want from _me_?" Troy demanded. "I know how this works. Y' ain't gonna give me tips or nothin' for free. So, what're you after?"

Almost seeming offended, Mike wrinkled his nose. "You're joking, right? Troy, we're not in Howe's anymore. It don't work like that now."

Clementine glanced between the two, noting the way Troy looked once more a bit out of touch with reality. In the end, though, she said nothing and turned back to Sarah. "We should go," she whispered. "I can help you out with shooting more later, if you want."

The older girl nodded. "Sounds good." A yawn passed through her quickly, and she rubbed at her eyes behind the glasses. "I'm getting tired."

"Me too," Clementine agreed, turning to the two men. "We're going to go join the others. If you keep shooting, try not to attract any walkers…"

Troy scowled. "Well, it's like everyone's been sayin' - place is secure enough. But we still got Kenny doin' security."

Quirking a brow, the girl pointed out, "He can't do it all night. We need someone to take over for him about halfway through."

A roll of eyes was her answer. "Fine, fine, I get what you're playin' at. I guess I'll have to do it next, then."

The answered startled her; she hadn't even asked him to do so, nor was she implying anything of the sort. He just assumed she wanted him to - and he was going to do it regardless. Blinking a few times in shock, she eventually forced herself to reply her thanks, which Troy waved off almost immediately.

"Just get t' bed. We leave bright an' early tomorrow, I'm sure, if Kenny has anythin' to say about it," he muttered lowly with a frown.

Sarah beamed. "Okay! You're probably right. Goodnight, Mike! Goodnight, Troy! Get some sleep too, okay?" She gave a small wave to them and left with Clementine towards the fire.

Once the two returned, everyone seemed to be drifting away into sleep. Everyone but Luke and Nick had curled up to sleep around the fire, huddled into themselves for warmth. The two young men were just about to settle down when they noticed the girls.

"Hey, how'd it go, Sarah?" Luke asked. "Did y' learn some stuff about shootin'?"

Nodding, Sarah exclaimed, "Yes, I sure did! Um, it's a bit scary still, but I got some bottles! I think I'm getting better." Clementine nodded her agreement. She _was_ impressed with Sarah's learning; was Lee proud of Clementine like that when he taught her?

"Good job!" Nick praised, patting her lightly on the head. She giggled in response and pulled both Luke and him in for a hug. The three held each other closely for a few moments; Clementine smiled at the scene, happy that the cabin survivors were growing into closer friends.

She almost felt like she was intruding - until Luke placed a hand on her shoulder. His expression bright for the first time in a while, he simply nodded to her and wished them all a good night.

"Goodnight," Clementine murmured, finding herself reflecting his happy look. She gazed once more over at Troy and Mike, catching the way the former man's shoulders slumped almost in defeat, and the way he looked like he was in another world.

Maybe he had simply zoned out, but Clementine couldn't stop thinking that something was wrong - that Troy hadn't been himself ever since they'd gotten here… or perhaps even earlier.

Not like he'd ever tell her anything, anyway; she shook her head clear and banished the curiosity, deciding that sleep was much more important. It probably wasn't anything serious, anyway.

"Goodnight, Sarah," she whispered to her friend, closing her eyes and drifting off almost immediately.

* * *

She had been enjoying the quiet of the night, the way the snow had stopped and the gentle glow of the dying fire licked at her face. The flickers of the flames lulled her to a light sleep, her small body curled up like a cat's next to Sarah's. The warmth of the other girl's body only added to Clementine's comfort; for a long while, she felt like she was floating in a comfortable, warm bubble, away from the harshness of reality.

It was so perfect. She honestly had not felt like this in ages; it almost felt like she was back with Lee, safe as a child in his arms…

A loud crash broke through her warm half-dreams, her eyes snapping open and a hand darting for the gun at her side. Expecting a walker right in her face, she hyperfocused on the area around her, eyes darting wildly to locate the danger.

To her surprise, she couldn't spot anything wrong. Sarah was still asleep next to her, Luke and Nick sleeping across from them. The fire was low but not completely out, and the sky was still black and the sun hadn't yet peaked over the horizon.

Blinking the rest of sleep from her eyes, the girl gazed around the whole site, seeking what could have made that noise. Perhaps it wasn't as loud as she'd thought, but it still was enough to wake her from her comforting sleep, so she was a little irritated. Everyone else was spread out a few meters away, probably floating on their own warm clouds and not yet ready to move on. Clementine had been jerked away from her own dreams and, consequently, was left wide awake.

Carefully removing Sarah's arms from around her torso (the girl was clingy in her sleep, it seemed), Clementine got to her feet and stretched. She might as well go find the cause of the noise, and maybe take over the watch while she was at it. Not like she was able to sleep again after that had startled her.

Hearing a slightly quieter '_clink!_', she reached for her gun and softly padded in the direction it came from - the corner of the fenced-in area with the generator. It was where Kenny had gone to take his first position watch, she remembered - but, as she made her way there, she passed his sleeping form, seated with AJ in his lap.

_So who…? Or what?_

She had her answer moments later, recognizing the tan pants of Troy spread out lazily against the fence, shoes scraping against the metal. As she got closer to him, she could plainly see Bonnie's bottle of alcohol placed next to him, a gun in his only hand. He had the pistol pointed out towards the fence, on complete edge as though a walker was coming for him.

But after standing there for a few moments, holding her breath and hoping he wouldn't notice her, she realized there was no danger. It seemed to dawn on him, too, for her placed his weapon down ran his hand through his hair. It was then she noted the shards of glass strewn about him, colored the same as the bottles he'd collected for Sarah to shoot earlier.

"Troy?" she whispered, taking some steps closer.

He cocked his head towards her, eyes hazy and glassed over. His lips curled into a sneer and he swiftly shot out his arm to drop the gun and pick up one of the shards, the pointed edges cutting into his skin, and threw it against the fence. It made a quieter clinking sound, but still wasn't pleasant to hear.

Clementine scowled and hissed, "What are you doing?! You're going to wake everyone up! Stop it!" Didn't he realize they all needed as much sleep as they could get?

The one-armed man simply snorted, not sparing any energy to even _try_ to be quiet. His dull eyes once more casted over to her, a frown settling on his lips. "And you're gonna try to stop me?" he slurred, and while she wasn't even that close to him, she could recognize the harsh smell of alcohol on his breath.

"You're _drunk_?" she asked, incredulously. What did he think he was _doing_?

"Yup," he replied simply, picking up the bottle next to him. Bringing it to his lips, he shakily took another drink, some of the liquid escaping his mouth and sliding down his chin. After a few gulps, he pulled it back and let out a long sigh. "Damn, that stings goin' down, but… it's nice, y'know? You should'a had a drink. Too late, though - it's all fuckin' mine now."

"Troy, give it to me," she demanded, extending her hand for the bottle. When he didn't move, she stepped forward and reached over for it, resulting in him scooting further away with an offended look on his face.

"The _fuck_ are you doin'?" he snarled, like an irritated animal. "Y'all had your turn at the 'toast'. Now I got mine."

Any patience she had with Troy was rapidly wearing thin. "You didn't want it," she reminded him. "And it's not good to have it right now. Why are you drinking it?" It made no sense to her; Troy had refused a drink before, and had scolded everyone for even partaking in the toast at all. Did he just prefer to be alone when he drank, or was there another reason?

The man chuckled, a smirk crossing his face but his eyes showing no mirth whatsoever. "You ever have to put someone down, Clementine?"

It became so quiet she could've heard a pin drop into the snow; that was the absolute last question she'd expected him to ask, and the timing was completely wrong. Her breath caught in her throat as she shoved the memories of shooting Lee in the jewelry store office from her mind, finding the terror she still felt associated with those thoughts not practical for her survival at all. Maybe it was because of Sarah's activity before, but the feelings associated with Lee, while easier to push back most days, became almost physically painful.

"Well?" he pressed. "Have you? Have y' had to pull the trigger? Seen the look'a death in their eyes 'fore you did?"

"Wh-why would you ask that?" she whispered, crouching down next to him, on her knees. For some reason, her heart was beating wildly and she almost couldn't hear him past the loud pulse in her ears. What was he getting at with this sort of talk? Why was it necessary now - and did it have anything to do with his recent change in behavior? She had chalked it up to Troy just being his usual moody self, but if there was something more…

She didn't have to continue to ask, because he surrendered the answer almost immediately. "Well, I had to. I mean, a lot'a times we did it at Howe's - Bill would ask me t' take 'em into the comic book store and just put 'em down - but I didn't know them; it wasn't personal. But twice… two times, I had t' shoot folks I cared about in the fuckin' _head_."

Clementine could only blink, completely stunned by the honesty in his words. He didn't give her an opportunity to answer, however, and continued.

"My older brother and niece came with me to Howe's. They were… the only fuckin' family I had, even before things went to shit. My brother - Colton - damn, he was… everythin' I wasn't. And Kylie, she was probably around your age, but much more fuckin' naive." He paused to readjust himself, Shit, why am I even tellin' you all of this?" He flashed his eyes over to her, lips curled in an almost snarl.

She honestly didn't know. He had always been so guarded since he joined the group, not revealing anything about himself personally apart from a few things here and there. Something had triggered this sudden change, and she didn't know what it was - or why he was revealing all of this _now_.

"I have no idea," she admitted, expression softening. "And you don't have to continue, if you don't want to." In the back of her mind, she hoped he wouldn't; he was making her very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Humanity and Troy just didn't click with her yet, it seemed.

He waved her off in response, the alcohol sloshing around in the bottle as he did. "Nah, I might as well," he mumbled, "It's not like I'm gonna be spillin' the beans like this again."

"Can I ask one thing, first?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. "Why are you drinking?"

At that, he gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Kid, folks don't need any fuckin' reason to drink… but yeah, guess I had one tonight. I just couldn't face that shit anymore. With that kid shootin' his sister… with Jane all proud'a the fact that she's a shit older siblin'..."

"Why does that bother you so much?"

"Gettin' to that, shh. Besides all that stupid shit, you and Sarah fuckin' _save my life_, and that asshole Mike teaches me how to shoot better with my left hand - for _free_! I don't get it, Clementine. I don't get why y'all are bein' so nice… I ain't shit."

There was such a sour tone to his voice that she wrinkled her nose. Though she once would have agreed with him, she couldn't say that was true - at least, not completely. He wasn't worthless, and did provide _some_ benefits to the group, like teaching Sarah to shoot. That meant _something_. "People need to be nice now," she explained quietly. "Humanity is all we have left."

Troy scoffed. "Nice hero speech. Practice that shit?" When she narrowed her eyes at him, he rolled his own. "Don't give me that look, you little shit. Y' asked me a question, and I answered. I don't get that sort of 'humanity' thinkin', and - well, it's all remindin' me of _them_. And that's why I'm drinkin' - because I'd rather poison my blood with booze than face what I fuckin' did."

What he did? Puzzled, Clementine asked, "What do you mean? What did you _do_, Troy?"

"Jeez, will you - will you fuckin' _let me talk _without interruptin'?" After she shut her mouth, he straightened himself against the generator and continued, "Me, Colton, and Kylie found Howe's after nearly starvin'. It was a blessin', as you can imagine. Bill was real nice to us, offerin' a kindness I'd never been shown by a stranger… or, hell, almost no one before."

That was a strange thought; she never even considered Carver could be anything but the dictator she'd seen running Howe's. Troy had mentioned that he wasn't always the monster that had made a spectacle out of beating Kenny nearly to death, and by the way he spoke, it seemed that Carver was once a lot kinder.

Troy went on with his story, leaving her no time to ponder. "For a while, things were goin' good. I mean, fuck, me and Colton felt sorta safe there. We thought it would be a good place to stay, settlin' ourselves into Bill's growing 'family'. Kylie even started t' smile again."

The image of a little girl smiling around Troy just wasn't possible for Clementine. She had trouble believing he didn't smack around his niece just like the rest of the children at Howe's, but from the way he spoke, it seemed he did really love her.

"What did Kylie like to do?" she asked, trying to get him to expand on that subject.

He snickered. "Anythin' and everythin'. Like Sarah, she was sorta… spacey, I guess. Had a big imagination. Liked to color. Hyper as fuck most'a the time, too. No matter where you'd be, she'd always be listenin', and felt the need to weigh in her comments. A real fuckin' _chatterbox_." Despite his annoyed tone, it was hard to miss the slight smile that settled onto his lips.

Clementine found herself smiling, as well. "Sounds like she was nice. Probably someone I would've been friends with at school." She remembered a few of her classmates being particularly energetic, too.

"Yeah, maybe. She was a real good kid - and I don't just say that shit about anyone. I fuckin' _hate_ kids, but Kylie… she was…" he trailed off, his smile fading.

"Your family," she finished for him. "Right? It's different when it's family." Or a found family, as Clementine had found out.

Troy rolled his eyes. "I guess so. It was just nice, for a while. We all did our jobs and kept safe for the most part, until…" His voice cracked as it broke off, and it took a few moments of his mouth hovering open for any words to continue out.

"Until one day, Colton'n me were assigned to work inside while Kylie was outside. We didn't think it was a good idea or nothin', but Bill assured us it was fine - that kids could do outside jobs too, and she wouldn't have to do nothin' too strenuous. That was enough for her daddy, and for me." As he spoke, Troy's expression grew more pained, as though he was bracing himself for the devastating turn this story would surely take.

"Kyles - sorry, _Kylie_ \- did everythin' just fine that day. Didn't make a damn mistake. But someone else did." He closed his eyes, taking another swig of the alcohol. "Me and Colton… fact is, _we_ let her out without anyone really watchin' her. And no one noticed the hole in the fence until a lurker's hand had broken through it."

His tone once more grew quiet. "She screamed, and Colton was runnin' like a madman. He got the thing off his daughter, but it ended up bein' too late. She got bit in her side." With a bitter, joyless laugh, he added, "She was askin' for a _Band-Aid_. Didn't even… realize what had happened."

Clementine's expression fell, her heart practically throbbing in pity. She could picture the scenario all-too-clearly - a little girl, innocent and naive to the way the world ended up, ending up getting captured and bitten by a stray walker. A father and uncle with no one else to turn to left with the decision of her fate.

"You said… you said before that you had to put someone down," she mentioned. "Why didn't Colton do it? That was his daughter, wasn't it?" Then again, Lee had put Duck down… Clementine couldn't even imagine the pain of a parent having to put a child down - or even the opposite. She knew she probably couldn't have put her own parents down, or at least not at the time.

Troy continued, "After the bite happened, he just… went into denial. Told me to _let it go_, that she'd _have_ to get better. Me'n Bill told him it didn't work like that, but he didn't want to hear any of it. It came to the moment where she got sicker and sicker, and we _had_ to do somethin'. And even then, he wouldn't do shit." An angry look crossed his face for a moment, but a moment later, the drunken haze returned to his eyes.

"So I shot her. Didn't even tell her I was doin' it, I just… did it. And it was _over_." He took a particularly long drink of the alcohol then, closing his eyes in thought.

Clementine wasn't sure what to say. He didn't continue, so she sat there, dumbstruck, for what felt like hours. He was looking towards her, but not really _at_ her; his gaze seemed distant, as though he was in another time period. Eventually, she mustered up the courage to at least ask a question. "What was Colton like? Um, before Kylie was…" she inquired, not wanting to finish that sentence.

Troy's expression changed quickly again, and his mind _really_ seemed to go off into another world. "Colton… heh, he was the only one that outmatched any'a the kindness y'all have shown me. I swear, the guy put _Sarah_ t' shame with his naivete and optimism. He always thought things would turn out alright, even before Kylie got bit. 'Troy, you'll see, the world's gonna get better,' and 'The three'a us will always stick together.'."

It was clear that promise didn't last, but she didn't dare point that out. Troy's hand had begun to squeeze the neck of the bottle tightly, his grip trembling with emotion.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, "_this_ is why I never fuckin' drink. It all just comes out all at once - 'specially when I don't want it to. _Fuck_." Shooting a glare over towards her, he hissed, "Don't think you're gettin' another part'a my sob story after tonight, y'little… It's not everyday I do this sort of thing."

"Obviously," Clementine replied dryly. "But go on. I'm listening."

Troy mumbled something under his breath - most likely curses - before he began speaking again. "Well, anyway… that line'a thinkin' turned out to be the _idiot's_ downfall in the end," he snarled, the shakes spreading to the rest of his body to make it look like he was shivering. With a sharky sigh, Troy forced out the next words, "I had t' shoot him, too. Put a bullet in the head'a the only person I ever looked up to. The only one who ever gave a _shit_ about me!" With a frustrated growl, he threw the bottle towards the fence, watching it split into pieces and splatter the rest of the liquid onto the snow. She jumped at the noise, eyes darting towards Troy in case he wanted to do anything drastic.

His eyes met hers, a burning regret blazing in the brown irises. The look was so raw, so _haunted_ \- she honestly didn't know how to respond. Her eyes once more softened, lips drawn into a frown. This sounded like it would be very hard for Troy to admit normally, but the mask of alcohol was letting him say it without remorse. Though she knew it would have repercussions later, she couldn't help her curiosity and asked, "And… how did Colton get bitten?"

With a snort, the man faced the fence, focused on the shards of glass littered onto the ground. His legs curled up to his chest, and suddenly he looked a lot smaller. "I never said he was bitten," he muttered, an empty grin crossing his face.

Startled, she raised her eyebrows and gave him a look of confusion. "What? What do you _mean_?"

Troy just chuckled, the pain evident in his tone. "Y' sure are _stupid_, Clementine. You should know that things worked… _differently_ at Howe's. Bill told y', I'm sure - think about Reggie. He was weak of will, of _character_."

She blinked, recalling the philosophies Carver had recited to her in his office. The older man had been so confident that he was doing something right, something _just…_ But that wasn't the case, given what she'd seen. He was only deluding himself and his underlings.

And Troy kept going. "Colton was… weak. Not like me - Bill even told me that… that I was _stronger_. That I could see my brother was sufferin' and put him out of his misery. And that was a thing only a strong man could do. So I did." He said it casually, but Clementine could tell just speaking this was hurting him. The alcohol clearly wasn't helping with as much of the pain as he'd intended.

He tore his gaze from her and lowered his head, refusing to meet her eyes. "And… and y'know what the fucked up thing was?" he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I didn't want to. I really, _really_ didn't want to. Guess that makes me weaker'n Bill thought. It sure as hell proved to be that way later on, though. Anyone could see he was gettin' tired of me."

He wasn't wrong - she had overheard Carver say something about Troy being 'a fucking idiot' in his office, and it wasn't hard to see that Troy was getting on his nerves. It made her wonder how long Troy had been there, and if he had been getting close to outliving his usefulness to Carver.

"That doesn't make you weak," she began, trying to do what she could to comfort him.

However, he spoke over her a moment later. "Don't interrupt. And don't give me a lecture like I'm fuckin' Sarah or somethin'. This is somethin' that I don't need a _pep talk_ for, Clementine. I just needed t' let it out before it ate me alive."

"...okay," she muttered. "Okay, I'm sorry. I won't say anything. Keep going."

He didn't hesitate to do so. "Like I said, Colton was like Reggie," Troy explained, his head shaking, "Too pathetic to continue. After Kylie's death, he just… _stopped_. It was like… he _wasn't there _anymore. And Bill made it clear that we couldn't have that at Howe's. Not with what we had at stake."

Colton sounded a bit like Sarah after Carlos had died, but she'd gotten a bit better - if Carver had been patient with the man, would he have snapped himself back to reality, as well? Would he have carried on, as well? And if he was alive, would things have changed at Howe's? She didn't think Troy would be the same, surely, but she supposed she'd never know.

Troy's voice fell to a whisper. "He _deserved_ to die. He put us at risk with his incompetence. Killin' one in order to save many is part'a _survival_. It's one of the tough decisions that a… a _weaker_ person couldn't make."

Clementine recognized that speech; it was the same one Carver gave to her after he'd killed Reggie. Troy was reciting it word for word, like he'd heard it so many times before. Actually, it wasn't hard to believe that he _had_ heard it on repeat, and memorized every last syllable.

Despite his earlier warnings to not interrupt, Clementine wasn't liking where this was going. She didn't want to hear any remnants of that monster's morals, and was about to tell Troy to stop, that what he was saying was just an excuse, but she stopped short once he turned his head towards her and she got a good look at his expression.

Now, she had only seen one man cry in her lifetime, and that was Kenny when he'd lost Katjaa and Duck. She hadn't caught complete sight of it, either, merely seeing him wipe his eyes on his sleeve and hang his head down low. Her own father had never shed tears in front of her, so it was a completely alien experience to her.

Troy was not crying. No tears were falling from his eyes down his cheeks, nor were any unshed ones pooling behind his brown hues. However, his eyelids were narrowed and his lips were drawn in a tight frown, eyebrows scrunched together in an expression of so much agony that it almost was like he was. His jaw tightened, bone clicking as he put so much pressure on it she almost feared it would snap off its hinges.

She'd _never_ seen that sort of look on him, not even when he was on the verge of death. He was so vulnerable, so torn up and... _human_ – and honestly, she didn't like how it made her feel.

"Colton... deserved to die," the man repeated, his voice rendered to a hushed whisper. He may have been justifying his own brother's death through his words, but Clementine could see in his eyes, see by that completely broken gaze, that he didn't believe a word of what he was saying.

Silence fell between them, until Troy eventually collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, falling asleep almost instantly. He was laying on the glass shards, but if they were cutting into him, he didn't seem to notice and slept on, dead to the world.

Clementine took over the watch, seating herself nearby but not too close to him. As she swept her gaze around the camp, she caught the gaze of one person - one curious soul that was close enough to hear almost everything Troy had just confessed.

"Don't say a word," she mouthed to Jane, who was staring back at her with wide, cat-like eyes. The woman's gaze flicked to the unconscious man, and back at Clementine, before she nodded firmly. It was impossible to tell just how much Jane had heard, but if they both could keep this under wraps, it would be better for everyone.

Hopefully, Troy got what he needed off of his chest… if only for his own mental state. Clementine wasn't so sure why she cared about him feeling better, but she did nonetheless.

It was almost like he was becoming a real part of their makeshift, foster family group.


	15. Chapter 15

**Out on a Limb**

**Summary:** When faced with a different bite victim in the herd, Clementine makes a split-second decision that ultimately changes so much down the line.

**Rating: **T

**Notes: **I… I have no excuse for this being four months late. I really don't. Well, I mean, I started another job (now I have three part-times), but that's really no excuse for _four months_. Really, I appreciate every single one of you (I'm a lucky author!), and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also… uh… another thing: I'm warning about the next chapter, some of you may not like what happens. Remember I said that while some characters would die in this fic, I'd try to give them the send-off they deserve? Well, hopefully I've done a good enough job with Sarita and Rebecca, and there will be others that die. I'm not sugarcoating it; this is TWDG, after all. People die. It happens. But it's also a story and they deserve a good ending to their character arcs, I think.

Please don't forget to review, if you don't mind!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Walking Dead Game.

* * *

Clementine had trouble meeting Troy's eyes the next morning. Thankfully, though, she wasn't the one to wake him up, as she'd moved back over towards the dying fire in the middle of the night while he slept. She didn't want to have to deal with him when he finally did awaken again, so she chose to leave him for now and keep watch from another location.

Jane was the first to wake, although Clementine couldn't be sure she'd ever truly went back to sleep after Troy's confessions last night. The young girl was almost sure she herself had chosen to stand sentry around the camp because of how much his words bothered her; seeing a human and pained side to someone she'd only seen as a monster until very recently was startling.

She could only wonder how Jane felt, having met the man at an earlier time. Had Jane been there when Colton and Kylie were? Unlikely, given her wide-eyed reaction to his drunken ramblings, but still. Was there a bigger distinction between the man Jane had first encountered at Howe's, and now? And was that difference even measurable?

A sigh escaped her lips as she reminded herself that it didn't matter, in the end. Troy sharing his past didn't change a damn thing now, except maybe how Clementine regarded him - but what others thought was worth virtually nothing in a world where survival wasn't guaranteed.

Once more seeming to zone out, she almost didn't notice Nick sitting up nearby, a sleepy smile on his lips. Rubbing at his eyes, he rasped, "Mornin', Clem. You look real tired." Scrunching his eyebrows down, the man seemed to connect a few dots in his head and asked, "Did you sleep at _all_ last night?"

Sheepishly, she shrugged. "Someone had to keep watch." It was a poor excuse, and she couldn't help the way her eyes drifted over towards Troy's still-unconscious form a few feet from the fence (she'd since dragged him from the edge of the chain links, just in case any walkers got hungry in the night).

Nick's face soured. "Wasn't Troy supposed to watch after Kenny? Did the dumbass sleep in or somethin'?" He scoffed, leaning back onto one of the logs encircling the fire.

Clementine shook her head. "No, he did his shift. I just took over afterwards." Troy's secrets weren't hers to blab, so she wasn't keen on letting anyone know about them. Besides, some small part of her felt a bit touched that he trusted her enough to let it out; it probably was because of the alcohol, but still. Troy _was_ making progress nonetheless.

"Ah. Gotcha. Well, we should probably get movin' soon, huh?" Nick murmured, nudging Luke beside him. "Rise and shine, man." The sleeping man groaned slightly, shifting onto his side before his eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Oh, mornin' Clem. Nick." Luke nodded to each one of them, poking lightly at Sarah nearby.

The girl stirred and shifted to a seated position next to them, yawning and adjusting her glasses. "Morning, everyone," she whispered, her voice still sleepy. "Is, um… everyone feeling a bit better than last night?" Her hands dug into her jacket, fishing her piece of rope out for reference.

Clementine could feel the weight of hers in her own pocket, and found herself nodding in response. "I do, a little," she admitted. "It was a nice thing to do for everyone. I liked it."

"Me too," Luke added. "It, uh, really help put things into perspective. Made me think no one was really gone, y'know? That they're always gonna be with us, now." He paused to chuckle, a nervous sort of edge to his voice. "Guess that sounds a little cheesy."

Sarah brightened at the words. "No, it doesn't at all, I promise! I'm glad it helped! I… I needed it, too."

"Good. Thanks for… y'know, brightenin' the mood, Sarah," Nick said with a slight smile of his own. "I'm glad we're all still alive, out of our original group at the cabin. Don't get me wrong… I miss 'em all so much." He paused to lower his head, as if in tribute. "But I'm… real grateful the three'a us are still together."

"Me too, man. Though, we ain't bein' the most polite to Clem here." Luke snickered and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

Clementine blinked, smiling a little. "It's okay. I know you guys have a bond - just like me and Kenny, from when we traveled together."

"Yeah! It doesn't make you any less important, Clem," Sarah exclaimed. "In fact, you're, like, pretty much my best friend."

_Friend_. The word sent a warning of unease through Clementine, but also a quiet mixture of satisfaction and relief. Just for a moment, Sarah's declaration of friendship made the girl feel normal again, like this was a playground and she'd just been inducted into a secret club. Like she'd make snow angels with Sarah instead of trudging to a safehouse _half-frozen_, or show her a collection of bracelets she'd gathered that _weren't_ pieces of ropes tied to keep the memories of those that had been brutally killed.

For just a moment, Clementine felt like a normal girl again - and then, just like people in this world, the thought came and went.

She shook her head clear, banishing the delusions from her mind. What was she _thinking_? Right now, her focus was getting to the supplies Arvo had promised, and to keep AJ alive. To keep _Sarah_ alive - to keep Nick, Luke, Kenny, _Troy…_ all of the group alive. She kept telling herself the next death wouldn't hurt as much as the last, and while that was partially true, she could never quite get used to the look of lifelessness in their eyes. Her senses were just not numbed enough to the image of a corpse, whether it was walking or not.

"Hey, Clem," Luke nudged her slightly, noticing she'd gone quiet. "You know we're your friends, too - and we ain't goin' anywhere."

_You can't promise that. _She didn't want to say it, but it echoed in her head like a drum. Still, the smile on Luke's face was comforting, and she found herself nodding as if she believed him.

Nick took off his hat, running a hand through his messy black hair. "We cabin folks gotta stick like glue - includin' you, Clem."

"Yeah!" Sarah cheered in agreement. "I mean, who else would know how lame and boring that cabin was?"

"Hey!" Luke snorted, nudging her a bit. "I happened to bring us there, y'know. That the thanks I get?"

The older girl simply nodded. "Boring!" she repeated with a giggle.

Clementine felt herself getting lost in the laughter and playfulness of the conversation, and she almost missed Mike finally sitting up nearby. He gazed on with amusement, simply watching until they noticed him staring.

"You guys are awfully chatty," he scoffed lightheartedly, rolling over to nudge Bonnie awake. Kenny was surprisingly the last to wake (besides Troy), but he was the first to stand up and get packed and ready to go, already telling the rest of the group to hurry it along. Clementine frowned, disappointed that the small moment with the remaining cabin members was over, but she knew as much as anyone that they all needed to keep moving.

It was only once everyone else was up and ready that someone finally noticed the one-armed dumbass near one of the generators. And of course, it was Kenny. The older man grimaced down at the sleeping figure, giving him a slight kick to the stomach. "Hey, asshole. Wake up! I _know_ you didn't do this shit with Carver!"

A good point, Clementine reflected, but Troy probably hadn't gotten drunk at Howe's.

The younger man moaned and flipped himself over, shooting a glare at Kenny that showed more malice than Troy could probably say through words at that moment. Still, he kept quiet and stumbled to his feet, shaking his head - and probably the lasting effects of the alcohol - clear.

"Fuck, my head hurts," he mumbled, but no one paid him any mind. She couldn't help but cross her arms once he caught her gaze, and sighed to herself as he approached her.

"Good morning, _sunshine_," she snarked, not being able to resist the urge to smirk. He looked… well, Troy was never pretty, but he looked like even more of a mess now, with wrinkled clothes and his brown mop of hair a mess. The scowl he wore wasn't doing him any favors, either; she had to suppress a snicker at how crabby he looked. Definitely not a morning person, then - or a hangover person.

"Stuff it," he snapped, teeth grinding together. "I don't remember all'a what happened last night, but I know I told you dumb shit. Keep that to yourself, and we won't have a fuckin' problem, y'hear?"

She merely rolled her eyes in response. "Why would I want to tell that stuff to anyone? It sounded personal, and I'm not a tattletale."

He snorted. "A fuckin' _tattletale_? How old are you again?" Before she could answer, he shook his head. "Never mind. Just keep your trap shut and things won't have t' get nasty." His words were serious, and he looked quite grumpy and hungover, but she could hardly be afraid of him. This wasn't like Howe's; he held no power here, and they both knew it.

"I told you I won't tell. You'll just have to trust me," she remarked, knowing that Troy putting his faith in anyone at this point was a long shot. But still, it wasn't like either of them could argue semantics; like it or not, they were stuck with one another. Troy didn't seem to be able to go anywhere anytime soon.

And Clementine was starting to get used to that.

Luke called to the two of them before the conversation could continue. "Clem! Troy! We're getting ready to go, alright? Hurry along, now!" He waved them over, looking quite chipper for however early in the morning it was.

Clementine smiled; the atmosphere was nowhere near cheerful, but she felt as though some of the grim mood hanging over their heads had been cleared. Sarah's rope-knot activity the previous night seemed to have rekindled some of their spirits, if only for the reminder that they weren't leaving the dead behind, not really - their memories would keep them alive, and their new physical mementos would, as well.

Speaking of…

She cast a glance towards where Troy had been sitting the previous night; it seemed the piece of rope he'd thrown onto the ground - the one with two knots for Colton and Kylie - was gone. Had he pocketed it, after all? She didn't dare ask, but she couldn't help but wonder.

"Yeah, yeah," Troy groaned towards Luke, brushing past her and holding his hand up to his head. "Jesus, this hurts like a _bitch_," he mumbled under his breath, and she knew he didn't mean his arm.

The girl did a quick survey of the group before returning to the others. Kenny, Luke, Nick, and Sarah were standing close to the entrance to the fence to get moving, Mike and Bonnie were getting Arvo untied near one of the generators, and Jane was impatiently waiting by herself nearby. It seemed like everyone was ready to keep going; after exchanging a wordless glance with Troy, they both joined the rest.

"Hope y'all got enough sleep," Kenny muttered, "There ain't gonna be much stopping on the way. Though I hope there won't be any problems, y' never know." He cast a glare towards Arvo, who limped over to them with Mike and Bonnie.

The Russian teen swallowed hard. "I… I lead you there, I swear. F-few hours, at most." His voice shook and he looked paler than before, Clementine noted with slight concern.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked him, unknowingly voicing her friend's thoughts. "You look kinda… sick. Do we need to rest for a little longer? I'm not really tired, but-"

Arvo whipped a frightened gaze towards her, his mind elsewhere for a moment, before he shook his head. "N-no! No, I… I am fine!" He seemed to be convincing not only Sarah and the rest of the group, but himself, as well. The older girl flashed him a sympathetic look in response, but said nothing.

"He _better_ be fine," Kenny growled, giving the teen a shove towards the front of the fence. Arvo cursed something under his breath (probably in his home language) and shuddered as though in pain. "He's gonna get us to that safehouse, or whatever the fuck it is, and he is gonna get us there before sundown. You got that, Ruskie?" He gave the boy another push for emphasis.

Arvo merely nodded miserably, keeping his head low.

"You don't gotta be like that, man," Mike murmured, flashing a glare towards Kenny.

"Yeah, I do. 'Cause who knows what he's planning? Just get us there in one piece, kid, or you'll wish you were dead," Kenny growled, clearly not having any arguments. Clementine did, however, catch the way he gazed down at AJ, nestled in his arms comfortably, for a few moments, as if recalling who they were all moving so quickly for.

AJ had to be given a chance to live; it wasn't fair otherwise.

* * *

Trudging through the snow wasn't particularly hard for most of them, though both Luke and Arvo seemed to be struggling the most. The latter was leading, however, and had to keep up the pace in fear of Kenny's gun pointed at his back. Clementine didn't approve, not by a long shot, but she couldn't exactly confront Kenny at the moment; he wouldn't listen anyway, as the man always did what he thought was best.

She huddled closer to herself as they walked on, Troy and Sarah the closest to her. Troy seemed to be keeping an eye on her, as if she'd go up to someone and just spill out all his secrets (how rude, honestly), while Sarah seemed slightly more confident as she walked along.

"Um, thanks, for teaching me before," she murmured, seeming to be talking to both Clementine and Troy. "I hope I don't have to use a gun anytime soon - seems scary - but I… want to be able to protect myself. I want to get stronger." Closing her eyes slightly, she whispered, "It's what my dad would've wanted, I just know it."

Clementine forced a small smile, nodding to her friend. "Anytime, Sarah. We can practice more later too, if you'd like."

Troy merely grimaced. "Don't fuckin' thank me for teachin' you the most basic shit. I didn't want y' comin' to me when things got hectic and whine for me to protect you. Now you can protect yourself." He scoffed, adding with a bitter tone, "And really - y'all can keep hopin' you ain't gonna have to use the gun, but you will. You'll _always_ find a reason to use it."

Sarah frowned. "I, um… I know _you_ always find a reason to use a gun…" she muttered.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, as though he hadn't been expecting sass, and hissed, "Shut the fuck up. I'm trying to help you out so you don't get bit and we have to put you the fuck down!"

Sarah flinched, her confidence dissolving immediately as she shrunk back. She wasn't able to speak right away, gazing over to Clementine for help.

The younger girl smacked Troy's side, unafraid of him. Her resolve hardened as she caught his eyes, a warning in her glare. "Stop saying stuff like that. No one's getting bitten." As soon as she focused back on Sarah, her expression softened. "Don't worry about him. Troy's just grumpy, and I think he knows why."

Immediately, Troy raised a hand to hit Clementine, but she snapped her eyes back on him before he could. The hostility in her brown orbs must have made him freeze, and he slowly lowered his arm before snarling some curses under his breath. "Piss off," he finally grumbled, picking up the pace leaving them behind, choosing to walk with Bonnie and Mike instead.

Clementine understood, now, why Troy was going off about getting bitten, but it excused nothing, and honestly, his attitude pissed her off. There was no reason to be mean to Sarah, or anyone really - though the younger girl had to admit she was a little protective of her friend.

Still, it was nice to know he wasn't completely stupid and knew that if he laid a hand on anyone, he'd probably be left for dead immediately.

"I didn't mean to make him feel bad…" Sarah whispered, hugging her arms around her body. "I thought he was being a little nicer, since he showed me how to shoot a gun and all…"

"I think he's always going to be a sourpuss," Clementine admitted with a shrug. "I think he's still learning how we function as a group, too." Maybe once he adjusted better…

Wait, what was she saying? Wasn't it his idea to leave once he felt safe enough to do so?

She once more cleared her head, focusing on her environment. Once they'd left the power plant-like area, there'd been strings of wires and electrical towards almost making a path for them to follow.

Arvo happened to be leading them that way, too, making her wonder if the Russians had made use of where they'd slept the previous night. It made sense, given the semi-fresh tracks of snow leading back to their campsite and towards their next destination. They were humans' prints, too, and not walkers, judging by the steady patterns.

Sarah and Clementine brought up the rear of the group; Nick and Luke were walking in front of them with Mike (with AJ), Bonnie, Jane, and now Troy more towards the front by Kenny, who led behind Arvo.

Everything surrounding them was snow and trees, a tundra forest that just made Clementine chilled from head to toe. Shivering, she bundled herself closer to the bright blue jacket, suddenly thankful to Bonnie for giving it to her back at Howe's.

"You sure you're good?" Mike's voice made her lift her head, and she noticed he was addressing Luke. The younger man was still limping, after all, leaning most of his weight onto Nick as they walked.

"Yeah - yeah, I'm good. If I start to crap out, I'll let you know," Luke replied, wincing as they dragged along.

"You do that. It's no trouble, man," Mike assured, nodding to them.

Kenny's voice sounded next, from the front of their line. "How much further?" It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was talking to.

"Close. Very close." Arvo seemed to be talking through gritted teeth, small whimpers leaving his lips as he walked. Though she couldn't see his face very well, the way he was walking made every step seem like agony, and it was obvious he was holding in the pain.

"You've been sayin' that shit every time he fuckin' asks," Troy mumbled in irritation.

"He has," Kenny agreed. "Maybe you and Ruskie should start hangin' out, Troy - both'a you seem like assholes who are _useless_ without their little pals in charge."

"Excuse _the fuck outta _me?" Troy practically squawked, rage making his voice shake as he dashed up towards the older man. "You just watch your fuckin' back, you old _fucker_ \- too bad y' only got one eye to do it with, though. Makes y' all sorts'a vulnerable for bullets!"

Kenny snorted. "You'd know all about vulnerability and handicaps, wouldn't you?" he snapped.

"That's enough!" Bonnie sighed exasperatedly. "Will you two give it a rest? We get it, y' don't like each other. We can't do anythin' about that now, except… at least _try _to tolerate each other? For Clem, at least." She shook her head, red ponytail bobbing back and forth like a horse's tail.

The two of them were so busy arguing, they didn't notice the walker lying on the other side of a rock as they passed it. Nick noticed it first, crying out, "Watch out! Lurker!"

Before he could react, the walker was on Kenny, tackling him to the ground and snapping its jaws for a bite of flesh. He cried out, fighting off the predator using all the strength he could to keep it at bay, arms prying away the thing's torso. Clementine reached for her gun, but a premature shot sounded nearby, missing everyone completely and ringing in her ear.

Sarah shakily held her own pistol - an extra one that had belonged to one of the Russians - eyes widened as she realized how off her mark she was. The weapon fell from her hand and Clementine retrieved it, aiming towards the walker's head. After that one extra shot, the walker slumped onto Kenny, returning back to the nonmoving corpse it should have been.

"T-thanks Clementine," Kenny huffed, standing up and brushing himself off. "Fucker came outta nowhere."

Clementine let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, exchanging a glance with Sarah. The older girl swallowed hard, a small film of tears over her eyes. Clementine shook her head in reassurance, handing her back the pistol. "You didn't hesitate," she observed. "That was good. We just need to work on your aim. You're still learning, so you're not going to hit your mark every time yet."

With a trembling nod, Sarah wordlessly took her gun back, placing it on safety the way Troy had showed her and returning it to her hoodie's pocket.

Once the blood finally stopped roaring in her ears from adrenaline, Clementine realized AJ was crying, most likely because of the loud noises. Frowning, she wished she could do something to comfort him, but Mike was already bouncing him lightly in his arms, trying to soothe him as best he could.

"Shh, it's okay, little guy," he said in a hushed tone to the infant. "It's just a gunshot. You'll hear plenty of those, trust me."

Luke chuckled. "If he's lucky, he'll find a place where he won't need to, but… that sounds a bit too optimistic, so I gotta agree."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Those gunshots were real loud - hopefully there ain't more of 'em."

"Yeah, well, _let's move_ \- we don't want to be around to find out," Jane snapped, marching on ahead.

Arvo sighed, a defeated look shining in his eyes behind his glasses as he muttered, "Is very close. Come." He continued to limp forward, clearly in pain as he cursed quietly in Russian.

Sarah nudged her side. "I hope Arvo's okay."

With a nod, Clementine replied, "Me too. I wish we had something to give him…"

"We don't have any more painkillers?"

"No, I don't think so… We used the last on Troy and Rebecca. Maybe there'll be something at the house he's taking us to, though…" Clementine just hoped he had been telling the truth - for his sake, just as much as theirs.

After walking for a few more minutes, the trees finally stopped appearing and Arvo stopped before a wide, white clearing. In the distance, a half-completed house could be seen, looking abandoned with half of the structure exposed to the cold. It sat atop a hill, a long frozen lake stretched out between them and the house. The ice shimmered as a gust of wind tore through the air, snow from various clumps piled on the banks fluttering about.

Clementine shivered, exchanging a glance with Sarah, a bit confused at the state of the house. Was _that_ supposed to be a safe place for them? For AJ?

It seemed she wasn't the only one with doubts. "That piece of shit? You're takin' us _there_?" Troy demanded, disbelief edging his tone.

"I can't fuckin' believe this. It's half-built. What good's that gonna do for us?" Kenny asked with a frustrated snarl. He shoved Arvo for good measure, the barrel of his gun poking at the teen's back. "You tryin' to fucking _play_ us, Ruskie?!"

Jane stepped up next. "We're here for the _supplies_," she reminded them. "Not the house."

"Is warm," Arvo assured. "Very warm. Fireplace. Me and… sister live there for some time. Must be careful around ice." Unable to point with his hands bound, he nodded towards the frozen lake.

Nick raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "You want us to just… walk over?"

No one replied, and the group wordlessly walked to the edge of the frozen lake's bank, staring out at the icy surface extending out towards their destination. The frosty bridge seemed solid enough to walk on, though it was impossible to truly secure safety. Clementine swallowed hard, anxiously gazing at the others.

"There's no way around?" Bonnie questioned, and Arvo merely shook his head.

"Would take days to walk around," he replied softly. "Cannot find clear path, anyway…"

"Then I _guess_ we got no fuckin' choice here. We gotta cross this," Kenny muttered in frustration.

* * *

In the end, they all decided to spread out and not clump together, to keep their weight from breaking through the surface of the ice. Arvo was once again in front, leading them through the frozen lake with Kenny close behind him. Everyone else was separated the best they could while still being within earshot, with Clementine, Sarah, Nick, and Luke being the last to walk out onto the ice.

Kenny had _demanded_ Arvo go first because he had been confident they could walk across just fine. The squeaks of the teen's leg brace were the only prominent sounds around them, save for the occasional gust of wind.

The first step had been frightening, and Clementine almost slid right then and there, but once she regained her balance, she was able to slowly step forwards, following the rest of the group. Sarah had nearly fallen, as well, but with a startled yelp managed to keep herself standing.

"That's it, y'all… Just keep the weight spread out." Bonnie's encouraging voice sounded from up ahead, keeping Clementine focused on their goal. The adults were taking their time, so she would make sure she followed their example. This was one area she didn't feel confident going off alone in; ice was unpredictable, and Science hadn't been her best subject.

She kept her eyes on the ice, keeping watch for any cracks - and urged those closest to her to do the same. Sarah nodded and whimpered, her anxiety clearly skyrocketing as her breaths became short and light.

"Sarah… try to keep it together," Nick murmured. "Deep breaths. Remember?" The man looked extremely nervous as well, though, and didn't seem like he should be giving anyone advice at the moment.

But the words connected nonetheless, for a few long sighs escaped from Sarah's lips, and her steps seemed slightly less wobbled as she followed nearby. Clementine could keep a clear eye on her, though even if they were too close, she doubted their combined weight would break anything.

It was all so painstakingly slow, and each crunch of boots on ice made the tension in the air grow thicker and thicker, until it was difficult to even _think_ about anything but walking forward. One step, two steps, three… Clementine decided to count each step, giving her something to focus on besides the fear of fissures in the ice running too deep.

Once she counted to fifteen steps, she felt an unpleasant crackling sound, and sure enough, the shape of a crevice carved its way onto the ice below her, spreading out erratically like a spider's web. She froze immediately (no sick pun intended), her heart rate skyrocketing.

"We're okay," Luke sounded from behind her, a shakiness to his voice despite himself. "Don't worry."

Nick's voice came next. "Keep on movin', it's gonna be alright. We're almost there."

Clementine took a deep breath and pushed herself forward, going back to her mental counting. _Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen… _

At nineteen, animalistic snarls broke through the silence; the girl whipped her head around, seeing walkers fearlessly beginning to tread across the ice in pursuit of prey.

"W-walkers!" Sarah cried out, warning the rest of the group. Everyone turned their head to look carefully, taking in the situation.

"It's only a few of 'em," Mike finally called back. "We can make it."

An angry shout from Kenny came next. "Hey! Stay with us!" After noticing the monsters following them, Arvo was walking a bit faster now, his quickened pace echoed in the faster squeaks of his brace.

Behind her, Clementine heard the ice break and plunge something into the water underneath with a loud splash. Everyone stopped and stood still, almost literally frozen to their spots.

Clearly afraid to look back, Sarah whispered, "...Luke? Nick?"

"It was some lurkers," Luke replied, sounding further away than he had been.

Everyone seemed to instantly regain their senses, and once more gazed behind at what had happened. The hole that the walkers had made wasn't very large, but it was clear that more than one of them had broken through. Some more breaks in the ice spread out from their collapsed section, threatening to spread to where everyone was standing and split the light coat of frozen snow keeping them alive.

"That's two less to deal with. Just stay spread out and we'll be fine," Jane said.

Arvo didn't take those words to heart, however, because he broke into as fast as a sprint as he could manage, clumsily limping towards the other side of the lake. Kenny yelled curses after him, speeding up to a run across the fragile surface. Time seemed to slow down as the older man sprinted like a cat chasing a mouse, after a boy who was currently mewling with pain as he ran.

"Shit! He's gonna kill him!" Mike hissed angrily. Despite AJ being in his arms, he decided to also race forward, going after Kenny to try to stop any stupid actions he might do in his rage.

"Get back here, you piece of _shit_!" Kenny snarled, and just as Arvo gazed back at him, the boy cried out in pain and went tumbling down, the ice breaking and water swallowing up the bottoms of his legs.

The teen scrambled forward in desperation, his bound hands making it difficult to claw at the ice. His good leg was kicking wildly to get out of the water, shivers already running through his body.

"нет! нет, нет, нет!" Arvo screamed, which Clementine could only assume meant 'no' or a similar protest. Kenny grabbed him moments later and fished him out of the hole, dragging him to his feet and pushing him forwards, onto the snow on the other side of the lake.

She let out a small sigh of relief. And moments after Kenny and Arvo, Mike and Bonnie had crossed over to the safe side as well, with Jane and Troy following them in turn.

With six members of the group making it to safety, Clementine felt more confident that the remaining four could cross, as well.

"C-Clem, I'm scared," Sarah whimpered under her breath, but loud enough so they could hear. "Nick, Luke, I'm… I'm really scared."

"Don't worry, Sarah. Like we said, it's gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine," Nick assured, nerves practically keeping his words to a whisper. "Go on ahead of us, Sarah - you're light enough to make it to the other side, no problem. And we'll follow shortly, don't worry."

Sarah exchanged a worried look at Clementine, but the younger girl merely signaled to hurry her pace. The older girl nodded shakily and stepped forward, making her at the lead of the group that were left. She was currently the closest to the other side, and seemed to be focused on getting there in one piece.

"W-we got this, guys," Luke's murmured from behind, his voice not at all sounding confident.

Clementine found herself nodding all the same, though, and turned back to look at the two behind her.

She wished she hadn't.

Nick was in front of Luke, closer to where Clementine was, but the latter man had stopped completely, limbs spread wide for balance. Cracks like an earthquake spread underneath his feet, instability keeping him rooted to the ice. Fear ripped through his face, his legs trembling beneath him - which only made the surface that much more unsafe.

Clementine must have looked frightened at the sight, for Nick caught her expression and turned around, his own stance beginning to wobble. "L-Luke!" he called, turning around to go back for his friend.

"_Stop_!" Luke's voice was full of terror, that much was clear, but there was a rawness that cut through his fright and truly showed how desperate he was to keep Nick away. "Don't come over here. _Don't_, Nick." His eyes seemed to be begging for help, but he didn't want anyone to get near to share his fate, should he fall in.

False confidence settled in next, the brown-haired man mumbling to himself. "I- I can make it. It's fine. I'll be fine. I just - I just need some time, okay? Give me a minute."

Nick shook his head. "There are lurkers behind you! I'm not leavin' you behind. Let me help-"

"No!" Luke snapped, a frantic effort to keep his friend away from danger. "No, I can do this, I just gotta be careful…" The moment he took a step forward, however, the ice crumbled beneath him, and his injured leg slipped through.

"_Luke_!" Nick yelled, not hesitating to run forward. "Oh, fuck no - no, I'm coming, man!" He hurried along, only to be stopped by his friend once more.

"If you get closer, you're gonna fall in too!" Luke cried, shaking his head furiously. "Do _not_ get any closer! You too, Clem!"

Clementine hadn't even realized she'd turned back until she heard Luke's warning, stopping and planting herself on a spot that was covered with the least cracks. Just once, she looked back, pleased to see that Sarah had made it to the other side safely. The older girl clearly wasn't happy, though, and had almost walked back onto the ice, if it wasn't for Bonnie grabbing and pulling her back.

She was calling out their names in alarm, that much was clear, but any other words were lost on Clementine as the familiar rush of adrenaline began to course through her body. She turned her complete attention back to Luke, who was still partly in the water.

"You need help, Luke!" Nick shouted, slowly inching towards him.

"No, you two will fall through if you get any closer!" Luke argued, trying with all his might to keep everyone away from him. When Clementine tried to dispute it, he cut her off and hissed, "Don't you get it? I need you to shoot those lurkers. Okay? That's all I need - a little time!" His eyes bugged out, fingers pinned to the surface of the ice, as though the cold _wasn't_ making him numb.

Nick looked towards at her in panic, an equally-palpable fear written all over his face. "Clem, we have to help him. You're light, you can get to him and I'll shoot. It's the only way I see us all makin' it to the other side."

Clementine had no choice but to oblige. Despite Luke's warnings, she cautiously stepped forward, ignoring his - and the rest of the group's - immediate protests. This was for his own sake, she reflected; this was his only chance of survival, and she wasn't going to let him die here.

They'd come so far. Luke could not die like this.

Nick's shots rang through the air, downing some close walkers. The corpses fell onto the ice, surprisingly not breaking through where they lay. All the while, Clementine tried to ignore the obvious threat she was walking towards and kept her focus on the panicked Luke, now halfway in the freezing water.

"Please," he begged through blueish lips, "just go back. Get back to _safety_, Clem."

"You need help, Luke. I got you," she called back at him. "It's going to be alright."

"I - I'm scared. God, I'm so fuckin' _scared…_" Luke whispered under his breath, as though he was trying to hide it from her. But she knew - she knew that he wasn't the unbreakable wall he fronted himself as. Luke was as human as the rest of them - and he needed help.

"You need help," she repeated, louder this time as she inched forward.

"I… I need help," he echoed, hanging his head. "God, you're right… _shit…_ I'm sorry, Clem. P-please, _help me_."

It must've felt nice to finally admit that, Clementine reflected; if it wasn't relieving, it was probably embarrassing for him. But it didn't matter either way, because she was not giving up on him now. Deciding she couldn't quite concentrate on the way his body drooped miserably while staring at the ice, she opted to count her steps again. _One… two… three…_

Before she could even get to five, a horribly loud crunch sounded, and the area below Luke broke through, swallowing him whole. Clementine stared at the spot where the ice had caved in, her eyes growing wider after every damn millisecond that _Luke was not there_.

He wasn't there anymore. He had been crumpled there - waiting for someone to rescue him or time to run out or perhaps _either_ \- but now he was… not. It took a few seconds for her to process that Luke was simply gone, and she'd failed him so terribly.

She had _failed him!_

But someone else was not about to give up like she had - someone would not accept the fact that friends don't ever last long in this world. A pained shout from Nick snapped her out of her senses, and the man rushed forward without hesitation, sinking to his knees below the hole.

Miraculously, the ice didn't crumble around Nick, though he was deliberately choosing spots that seemed more solid to stand on. Pete had mentioned he'd gone hunting with Nick, once - maybe the man had learned some trick to frozen lakes or something then. Or maybe he got lucky; either way, he wasn't falling in and was reaching into the frozen water with his bare hands to retrieve Luke.

Time stood still as he fished around desperately, arms reaching further into the dark abyss to grab hold of an arm, or a piece of fabric from a shirt, or virtually anything he could. Clementine's heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum, tension keeping her standing where she was, like a _coward_.

Finally, Nick pulled back, letting out a grunt of effort as he pulled something large and pale out of the water. Luke's lips were blue and the color had drained from his body as he curled into a fetal position, trying to push frightened words off his tongue but unable to. Immediately, Nick slung Luke's arm around his shoulders and pulled him up, using all the strength and luck he had to get to the other side of the lake.

And for once, fate smiled on them. They had made it to the other side, making Clementine hurry her pace along to follow them. By the time she crossed over, Nick was already inside the house, bundling Luke in as many pieces of clothing as he could from a backpack. Clementine was suddenly grateful they'd decided to snag so many clothes from Parker's Run.

"Luke! Luke, are you okay?!" Sarah cried, fear gripping her tone as she rushed inside with the others. The room they were in was slightly exposed to the outside, but for the most part, it was protected from the wind. There was a staircase leading to an unfinished upstairs nearby, and many random pieces of furniture in-the-making strewn about the room.

"We need a fire, Sarah, he's gonna freeze to death!" Nick breathed, his own adrenaline clearly not diminishing just yet. "I'm _not_ letting you die!" he added to Luke, who was unconscious on the floor and shivering uncontrollably.

"F-fire! Fire, okay!" Sarah replied, looking at the adults for help. "M-my dad never let me use matches! Does anyone have them? Please!"

Jane nodded, fishing some out of her pockets. "Here, let me just…" She knelt next to the fireplace, striking a match on the box and throwing it towards the lumber already placed inside. Once a small fire started kindling, Nick dragged Luke as close as he could to it, rubbing his hands over his friend's frail form, trying to warm him up with friction.

"C'mon… c'mon, man," he muttered, attention completely focused on saving Luke's life. Thankfully, the fire seemed to warm the freezing man, and Luke sighed slightly in content, his shivers dying down to slight tremors. When he'd calmed down completely and stopped shaking, Nick leaned back on his knees, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair.

Kenny whipped his head around to glare at Arvo. "What the actual fuck was that? You said it was _safe_, you little shitbird!" He walked up to the boy, staring him down like a piece of prey. "This place is a stack of fuckin' toothpicks! Bet those supplies aren't really here neither, are they?"

Arvo didn't respond, his head lowered submissively, but the older man shoved him, making him wince in pain.

"What? No speaka de English?" Kenny mocked, his temper flaring up like the flames in the fireplace.

Protectively, Mike thrust his way between them, meeting Kenny's eyes. "Do _not_, man. Leave him _alone_," he hissed. "It wasn't anyone's fault, and this place looks safe enough for now. That's all it's about, right? For fucking _now_."

"What? Mike, if there ain't no supplies here for little AJ, he's gonna starve, and we'll all be next! Don't give me that bullshit!"

"It ain't doin' anyone any favors squawkin' at each other like chickens," Troy pointed out, the sneer on his face betraying his words. The son of a bitch was _enjoying_ the discord, wasn't he?

Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "That's funny, coming from _you_ of all people, rooster-boy."

"Oh, shut up," Troy snapped with a scowl.

Kenny ignored the conversations around him, once more roughly grabbing Arvo and pushing him forward, like some sort of playground bully. "Start talkin', kid. _Now_."

"It wasn't - it wasn't Arvo's fault!" Sarah pleaded. "He's hurt and he was sc-scared! I was scared, too…" She trembled under Kenny's gaze, fingers folding together and picking at her nails anxiously.

Clementine stepped up beside her, more confidently raising her head to look at the man. "It wasn't his fault, Kenny. And we all made it across, anyway. Luke has a fire, he'll warm up and be okay." Pursing her lips, she gently placed a hand on his arm. "Kenny, listen to me. Please."

Kenny's eyes flashed with something she couldn't quite pinpoint, but his hostile expression began to soften and he eventually nodded, turning away from the Russian teen and towards her. "...thanks, darlin'. I'm gonna go look around, though, for those supplies."

"I think we'll _all_ explore the place a bit," Mike added quickly, clearly still suspicious of Kenny. The other adults gave nods of their own in agreement, and it was settled.

Clementine moved to join them, but found herself overcome with sudden exhaustion, and wobbled on her feet a bit. Sarah gazed curiously at her, asking if she was alright, but she couldn't really answer before sitting back down.

"Tired," she mumbled, not wanting to admit that crossing the ice took a lot out of her. Then again, with what happened with Troy, she wasn't able to get much sleep the previous night, so it made sense. The sun was still high in the sky, probably around mid-afternoon, but she felt as though she could sleep for hours.

"It's safe to take a rest," Bonnie assured her. "No one would blame y', Clem."

"I'm staying to make sure Luke is alright," Nick pointed out. "So I'll keep watch. Sarah, you can sleep too, if you want. You both look like you're 'bout to fall over."

Sarah blushed, waving her hands in front of her face. "D-do I really look that tired? Well, um… I guess it couldn't hurt to sleep for a little bit. What do you think, Clem?" She turned to her friend, a question in her gaze.

Clementine didn't hesitate. The warmth of the fire nearby and the comfort of everyone being in a safe place was lulling her to sleep, and she didn't want to resist if she didn't have to. She bobbed her head in agreement to answer Sarah, curling up on one of the pieces of furniture in the room. "...'night," she whispered, her words slurred from fatigue.

"Goodnight, Clem." Without another word, Sarah crawled near Luke on the floor, lying down close to keep warm. She wasn't close enough to touch, of course, but it was probably comforting to have someone she trusted within reach. Nick was also beside her, seated with his back against the piece of furniture, eyes focused only on Luke. His hand held onto his friend's shoulder tightly, fingers gently tracing any exposed icy skin, as though the man would break into pieces should he stop and let go.

Clementine stared at Luke for a long while, taking in the sight of him swaddled in extra clothes, his breaths shuddering and his lips still blue despite everything. The embers in the fireplace continued to grow larger, however, and she was confident that they would keep him from freezing even when night approached.

Comforted by the feeling of security and warmth, Clementine's eyes began to droop. She focused on Luke even as she felt herself drift away, the image of him asleep by the fire the last one she saw before sleep claimed her.

If only that peace had lasted. It hadn't even felt like she'd been asleep for more than a few _seconds_ before a loud shriek woke her, growls echoing nearby.


End file.
